The Beginning of the End
by Someone the World Forgot
Summary: King Maxon and Queen America never dissolved the Castes. Dozens of miles away, a girl finds out who she is. She is the real deal—right? The lower castes want the castes to be dissolved, and the Southern rebels are getting stronger. Soon, the news of World War Five looms upon them. Will Illéa thrive or fall? Will the castes get their wish? *summary updated* ALL RIGHTS TO KIERA CASS
1. Chapter 1

•Chapter 1•

Charmaine Carrington clicks on the TV just as the _Report_ starts. Sherri, her sister, climbs onto her lap. Her twin brothers, Kurt and Chase, wrestle over who gets to sit on the couch this time. Char discreetly smiles at their antics. Kamber, their mother, tears the boys apart with a tired smile. Seeing an opportunity now that the boys are distracted, Jake steals the couch. "Aha!" he yells, triumphant. "Neither of you get it!"

"Says—" Chase starts to say but Kurt shushes his twin. "The _Report_'s starting!" he hisses. We'll fight over it next time!"

"Good evening, Illéa!" The infamous _Report_ host, Gavril Fadaye, says. "Gavril Fadaye here. It has been one week since the end of our Crown Prince Adrian Schreave's Selection. Just as a recap, his choice is Lady—now Princess—Victoria of Kent, a Four. Do you have anything to say, your Highnesses?"

Prince Adrian smiles, putting an arm around his wife. "Yes, Gavril. I don't regret a single thing, choosing Princess Victoria as my lovely wife. She's a hard worker, a fast learner, sweet, compassionate, beautiful, and smart—who could ask for a better wife? I'm thankful that she was chosen for the Selection. If that never happened, I don't know what I could've done." The audience awe's at this. Charmaine groans.

"Awe so sweet," Char says sarcastically. As if Gavril Fadaye hears Char's comment dozens of miles away, he laughs. "Alright. Thanks, your Highness. Princess Victoria, anything else to say?"

Princess Victoria laughs. "Yes, as a matter of fact. My family is also here in the palace for a while before they move back to a house near the palace—apparently King Maxon started the tradition when he married Queen America. The King and Queen are insisting that I call them Dad and Mom. It's kind of hard to get used to that, because I've been calling them King Maxon and Queen America and your Majesties for so long."

"Speaking of family," Queen America adds, "there are quite a lot of them. Besides her parents, she has two brothers and two sisters. When her brothers team up with my sons, you have to be thankful if we don't come into the palace covered with paint, water, and sticky stuff. The four of them love to cook up stuff, but I think the palace would be a lot more boring without them."

"Is this the point of this whole _Report_?" Charmaine exclaims. She's pissed. "Have the King and Queen forgotten their promise—what, twenty years ago?"

"Alright, continuing on!" Gavril says. "I will now hand it over to His Majesty, King Maxon."

King Maxon nods a thank-you. "Thank you, Gavril. There will be another draft…"

Kamber is watching the screen intently. "Mom?" Sherri asks. "Queen America is your friend, right?"

"Hmm?" Kamber tears her eyes from the screen. "What did you say, honey?"

"Sher's asking if the Queen's your friend," Jake says.

Kamber smiles sadly. "Yes, she was, before she entered King Maxon's Selection. But, well, she became Queen, I had you kids, and we just drifted apart." Her voice becomes quieter. "But I wish we kept in touch."

"Well, Mummy, since you know the Queen, maybe you can tell her to make the Castes disappear? I mean, she's the Queen! She can change anything!" Sherri says.

"I _wish_ it were that simple," Jake mutters.

"Are you _sure_ Queen America proposed in her Selection to eliminate the castes?" Kurt asks.

"Yes, I'm sure. And also at the beginning of their reign. My family and I cheered when we heard that. We thought maybe this was the beginning of the end. But of course, we were wrong. Twenty years later and it's still here." Kamber sighs.

"That's it!" Charmaine yells, frustrated."I'm going to the palace to tell them to! I'm tired—"

"Char, it's not that simple," Kamber says.

"—of being lied to! They promised us that they would dissolve the Castes twenty years ago! I'm beginning to think they'll never do. Do they even remember what's it like to live in poverty?"

"Char—"

"I don't care if they kick me out! If they kill me, imprison me, cane me—I don't care! Maybe it'll show Illéa how much they care about us!"

Kamber has to admit that her daughter has a point. "Maybe it's time that I tell you the truth." Kamber sighs. "Pull up a chair, Char. This might take a while."


	2. Chapter 2

•Chapter 2•

Char pulls up a chair. "Mom? Is something wrong?" She asks, worried.

"Depends," comes the answer. She drops her head into her hands. "Char, remember, I love you no matter what. You're my daughter. It doesn't matter to me that it isn't by blood. Love is much stronger than blood."

Char gasps and puts a hand over her mouth. "You're saying I'm…I'm…I'm…" she couldn't say the word. _No, it can't be true! It isn't true!_ She inwardly screams.

"You're ADOPTED?!" Chase exclaims, popping his head around the door. Her eyes widen. He was listening! And he was saying the very words she didn't want to accept!

"Chase!" Kamber says, shooing him out. "Go outside, okay? Take advantage of the remainder of this beautiful day."

"Hey, maybe you're adopted too," Kurt grins, poking his brother on the shoulder.

Chase glares at him. "No I'm not!"

"Says who?"

"Me!"

"Well, I think you're adopted,"

"Mo-om!" Chase whines. "Kurt says I'm adopted! I'm not, am I right, Mom?"

"Well I think you are!"

"Boys!" Kamber's voice rings out. "Continue your argument outside! And no, you guys are not adopted!" Turning back to Charmaine, she confirms this. "Yes, Charmaine, you're adopted. But it doesn't mean I love you any less."

Charmaine is still denying the fact she's not of the Carrington family by blood. "But Dad showed me pictures of when I was a baby! He painted them on his canvas and stuff!"

"Yes, he did. That's because I adopted you a few hours after birth."

"Whats…? How…?"

"Let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

* * *

><p>"Wait, wait, wait…slow down. So you're saying that most doctors put something on a baby to check if heshe is alive? But don't most babies cry once they're out?"

"Yes, most do. But remember, I was a Six before I married your father. I helped as a midwife a few times."

"I thought doctors were Threes," Char comments.

"Oh, yes, but midwives are different. Sixes are also midwives.  
>"Continuing on. Most babies cry once they're out, but some—rarely—don't. I think you're one of the non-criers. And midwives and doctors are trained to put a device on a baby to check their pulses in three places—their wrists and neck. It leaves a mark for a day or two, but it's necessary. Well, I found you with only one mark, on your right wrist. Sometimes, the pulse is very faint, so that's why we check three places. But this doctor didn't even bother to check. I—"<p>

"Wait!" Char stops Kamber. "Are you sure no one claimed me?"

"Yes, I'm positive. I walked around town asking people if any of them knew whose baby this belonged to. No one knew, but some said that they would alert the Head Office."

"Well, I don't care who my mother is. She didn't even bother looking at me before burying me. No, she didn't even bury me, she just tossed my away! She handled me like I was trash! Maybe if she held me or even took a look at me she wouldn't have thrown me away. But—"

"I think it was the doctor who did that," Kamber interrupts.

"I'm glad she did. I'm sure she couldn't have done a better job than you! I don't care if my mother is some famous celebrity. She isn't my mother because she never loved me! Heck, even if my biological mother is the Queen, I don't care! Well, okay, that's random, she obviously isn't. But that's an example."

But Kamber's next words stop her cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys!**

**I'm going to explode right now. Like, literally, RIGHT NOW. (Actually, I am exploding as I type). I typed up this story all the way up to Chapter 12 and it was all perfect and then I FREAKING HIT THE DELETE BUTTON! Now, I know that all of you are going to be like, ****_Dude, chill, there's a recycle bin, remember?_**** But ahahahaha, nice try. I wrote it on my iPhone. On notes. And for all you iPod/iPhone users, there IS NO RECYCLE BIN button, right? You hit DELETE, t's gone forever. Yay me :( But thankfully I sent this chapter (through copy&paste onto my email) so I didn't lose this chapter. I'm typing it all again as fast as I can. Which means, I won't be updating in quite a while (maybe Tuesday at the earliest). And since I have to re-type this ALL OVER AGAIN, I decided to upload this chappy before you cry your eyes out about the cliffhanger, because it will positively kill you, huh? *evil smile***

**Man, what a long A/N!**

**going for the win: Nope, of course not! I left it at that so I could kill you! I'm so nice to you, am I? :)**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Sorry buddy. I can and I did. But I think it's worth it :)**

**lucky (guest): thanks for the tips! I will try to incorporate them into my story**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 3•<p>

"But what if she is? Kamber asks quietly.

Char jumps out of her seat. "WHAT?!" she yells. "Are you saying that America Schreave, the _Queen_ of Illéa, is my _mother_?!"

"Yes," her mother whispers.

"What the heck?! How?"

"The death sheet you were wrapped in. '_Property of the_ _Illéan Palace Hospital'_ was stitched on it. America had given birth that day. And only royal families can give birth in the hospital. Also, the box I found you in — it had the royal seal on it. And I realized later that I found you near the palace."

Char mumbles sarcastically. "Great, in just one day, I go from a nobody Five to an unknown Princess. What an awesome surprise."

Kamber smiles. "I think you're the only person in all of Illéa who wouldn't be ecstatic if they found out they're a Royal."

She shrugs. "I don't see any reason why they should be elated about that. You just get to live in a palace full of emotionless, stone-faced people. Bo-_ring_. I think I'd rather live in a fish tank than live with those guys."

"They're not stone-faced. They have emotions. They are still people, Char. They just put on that face for the _Report_."

"Pssh. Sure," Kamber's oldest daughter says. "Then what's the point of wearing those masks?"

"I don't know. Maybe to look more royal?"

She snorts. "They look royal enough."

"Char, don't be rude." Kamber says in a warning tone.

"Sorry," Char mutters.

"Okay, it's getting really late." She yawns, looking at the clock. It reads _12:24_. "We'll continue this discussion tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Charmaine is shaken awake. "Mrhh, what do you want?" She grumbles to the person in front of her. "It's too early!" she rolls over and buries her head into her pillow.<p>

"No it isn't," a voice says. She stares bleary-eyed at the face in front of her. Curious brown eyes stare back.

"Give me five reasons why I should get up so freaking early in the morning."

The voice laughs. "Char, get up." Char mumbles something that sounds like 'Gimme Furh Stupud Weasons furst'.

"Fine. One, today, it's Kara Tanner's birthday. You know what that means. Two, it's not early; it's already 7 o' clock. Three—"

"That's early to me," Char cuts in.

"—I don't think you want me to dump water on you to wake up, don't you? Four, Mom's gonna explode if she finds out you're not getting ready yet. She's been up since six thirty. Five … five … uh … you have to!" The voice finishes triumphantly.

"Ugh, fine," Charmaine says. She gets out of bed.

* * *

><p>"Happy Birthday!" Char says, hugging Kara.<p>

"Thanks for waking up so early for performing for my Birthday! I loved your pieces."

"Ah, it was nothing." Char lies.

"Um, not really. One of my kids said that they practically had to wrestle Char out of bed." Kamber says.

"Hey!" she protests, indignant.

"Oops, you guys have to go, now. There's your ride. Have a great day," Kara says, giving Sherri a high-five and hugging Kamber and Charmaine. "See ya!" Kara leaves them to bid farewell to the rest of the guests.

"She's nice." Sherri comments.

"I guess not all Twos are horrible," her sister says.

"I guess not." Kamber agrees.

* * *

><p>"I have come to a decision." Char announces to her mother once they get back home.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Four more things I forgot to mention earlier:<strong>

**1) I Promise that next time I will write a shorter A/N**

**2) The first one to figure out who was screaming (okay, not screaming, yelling) at Char to wake up gets to submit a minor character for this story! It will not be in the next chapter, but in one (or more) future chapters. I'll PM the person who gets it right first along with the instructions! Tell me via review, please.**

**3) I edited my Chapter 1 and 2 a little (Chap. 1, I changed their last name, Chap. 2, I added a line/those thingies I use to separate the story from the A/N, whatever they're called), but they're very minor**

**4) Thanks for reading, and a review/favourite/follow/PM would be great! (but optional, it's your choice! :P). Any comments/suggestions to improve my writing are definitely welcome :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys!**

**It looks like I kept my promise and (somehow) uploaded it on the earliest day possible. Actually, Wednesday morning at like 12am. I'm dying. Okay, you might be like, "Why does Kiren need four days to write a chapter?" No bro, I wrote three more chapters (and I went on a church get-together on one night) I like to be prepared and I need to make sure the chapters link together. For the past few days I've been getting only 6-7 hours of sleep. Ugh. Thanks, Apple, for not inventing the recycle bin on iPhones. You just did me a *HUGE* favour.**

**And congrats to going for the win, agb1700, and liverdiverz for guessing correctly. Sherri was the one who got Char up! They have all submitted characters that will be later featured in the story. I made a mistake. Turns out going for the win's character, Elena Anderson, got into this chapter. I did not realize that until half an hour ago. **

**Reviews:**

**Tanabella: Thanks, it's right here :)**

**going for the win: I know, I sure like to leave ya hanging, don't I?**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 4•<p>

Prince Adrian blinks at the morning sunlight. He groans and rubs his eyes. His clock says _8:46_. _Wow_, he thinks, _I've never woken up this late before._ He suddenly realizes that his wife isn't beside him. _She's probably doing some Princess-in-training stuff with Mom. I'll probably see her during breakfast,_ he reasons.

He gets up and rings for his maids. "Good morning, your Highness," they chorus.

"Good morning, ladies. Will you please draw my bath?" he asks,

"Will do," one of them says, curtsying. The others follow suit.

After his bath, he decides to wear a less formal suit, since there will be no guests for breakfast that day. Wearing casual-but-formal pants and a dress shirt, he thanks his maids. "Thank you, Kaylie, Miranda, and Elena," They curtsy in return.

He starts to leave. "Wait!" Elena says, running after him, her dark brown hair flying behind her. "You forgot your shoes!"

"Whoops," he says, laughing. "Thanks, Elena." He puts them on and heads down to the kitchen.

He sits next to his father. His mother and wife are nowhere to be seen. "Hey, Dad," he whispers, "where's Mom and Toria?"

"She's training Victoria for some Princess thing, Queenly training, or something like that. They should be back by lunchtime, if not earlier." King Maxon pauses to chew his eggs. "Oh, and by the way, there's a meeting that I'm not going to go with you tomorrow. You're in charge of making the decision. I'm not going to intervene. It's all up to you."

"Um, which meeting is that? We have three tomorrow."

"Whether or not we should have an alliance with France. But I assure you, their requirements and trades will be very hefty. Especially now that Queen Daphne is the queen. I've known her for a long time, and she has held a grudge on me because I married your mother. I don't understand it. So choose carefully. I'm not going to be in the room with you."

"So you're saying, the future of Illéa pretty much rests on my shoulders?"

"Yes. When you're king, you'll have to deal with these decisions all the time. So you better get used to it earlier, when I'm helping and training and preparing you for the road ahead."

* * *

><p>"I'm going to meet the King and Queen tomorrow. To complain about the Castes and to tell them who I am. I reckon this will take probably the whole day. And—" Charmaine declares.<p>

"No. Just no." Kamber says. "I'm not letting you go. It's too far from our house, and who knows if they're going to be available? And you know that they might kill you, right? For demanding something and yelling at them, or insulting them. No, you're not going, and that's final."

"Would you rather one day wasted or twenty years more years wasted? We already lost twenty years to our freedom. I don't want to lose more. Who knows when they'll dissolve the Castes? Never, probably! We'll just keep on waiting for the day that will never come! They'll push it back to the next reign, then the next, then the next!" She argues back. "The majority of the nation has waited a long time for the Castes to disappear, and it never will, at this rate."

"Don't use that tone with me," her mother warns.

"Mom! It's their fault we lost hope! They promised us something they never did. It's like they never want to help us! It's like King Clarkson's rule all over again!"

"How do you know about King Clarkson?" Kamber says sharply.

"School. But they did forget! They gave us false hope! King Maxon's rule is no better than his fathers'. I'm sick of this."

"Chamaine Elizabeth Carrington!" Char knows her mother means business when she uses her full name. "King Maxon's rule is better than his father's! You can't insult the King like that! You could get killed if someone finds out you said that."

"Sounds like King Clarkson's reign to me. Are you sure Maxon is 'trying to change Illea' right now? It doesn't seem like it."

"Charmaine, you are not going, and that is final."

She sighs. She knows when she is defeated. "Alright, I won't go. But it doesn't mean I'll be okay with this. I'm not." She gets up and goes into her room to play her flute. It always helped her let off steam when she played an instrument. Now that she thinks about it, it makes sense to her that she is adopted. No one in her family has a fiery temper that can match Char. And her father was the calmest person she had ever met. So it makes sense that she got that from Queen America, who was rumoured to have a fiery temper, much like Char's.

* * *

><p>"Char," her mom says a while later, knocking on the door. "Celeste is here to see you."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, who do you think Celeste is? And whoever PM or reviews me <strong>**first**** guessing CORRECTLY who Celeste's mother is will have the privilege of a sneak peek by PM for an upcoming chapter. Yes, first person! PERSON. So if you're a cow who somehow hacked into someone's fanfic account, sorry, you're not a person, no sneak peek for you! Why did I just type that last sentence...? Whatever. I'm not deleting that. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**P.S. I'm crashing now. So which means, if there are any mistakes, I'm not going to give a single crap about it until I wake up tomorrow at 7:00.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys!**

**Okay, I've decided to set up a schedule for uploading new chapters. I'm going to upload once every two or three days. But on weekends, I definitely can't, because weekends are the busiest days for me. **

**Thanks for everyone who followed/favourited/reviewed/and read!**

**Reviews:**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Interesting guess. Thanks!**

**agb1700: I'm not sure what you mean. Do you mean if Celeste is Char's real mother? This story isn't AU, but I do wish Celeste Newsome never died, though.**

**thoneforever: Okay, go ahead. You can fangirl as much as you want. I don't mind ;)**

**selectionprincess59: Interesting guess**

**Okay, *drumroll please*. In this story, the Celeste I mentioned in the last chapter's mother is Kriss Ambers. Yes. Kriss. So congrats to selectionprincess59. You guessed correctly! **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 5•<p>

"Okay! Coming, Mom!" Char sets down her flute and opens her door. A brunette head pops around the door. "Hey, Char. How's it going?" she asks.

"Hey Cel! I'm uh … practicing? I think you can see that."

"Duh! Wanna come over to my place?" Celeste offers.

"Sure! I'll ask—"

"No need! I already asked your mom before I came up. She said sure." Cel is grinning from ear to ear.

"Awesome!" she sticks her head through the door. "Mom! I'm leaving now! I'm going to Cel's place!"

There's some shuffling and a bang before she answers. "Alright! Be back by seven o'clock! Tomorrow's a big, big, big day!"

Char's mouth falls open. "You mean …" she falters.

"Yes, you can go, Char." Kamber's voice sounds muffled, but it becomes clearer again.

"Wait, go where?" Celeste looks confused.

"Mom says I can go—" Char starts.

"Visit her aunt. You know, my twin sister, Celia?" Kamber cuts in smoothly, standing at the bottom of the staircase.

Char suddenly understands. Her mother doesn't want anyone to know her plans tomorrow. "Yea, Mom didn't want me to go earlier, but she changed her mind just now. Okay, gotta go, Mom! See ya later!"

"Okay, bye!" They rush off.

* * *

><p>"Being a Three must rock. Ugh, this bed is so soft!" Char moans, burying her head into her pillow.<p>

Celeste laughs. "Just don't drool on it, Char," she says, laughing.

"I think I already did," Char smirks. "Too bad,"

"I hate you,"

"Love you too, Cel,"

* * *

><p>{The next day}<p>

Prince Adrian walks to the dining hall. "Hey guys," he says to the crowd there. A literal crowd. His family, Toria's family, Officer Leger's family, Queen America's family (minus Uncle Kota) and Aunt Marlee's family are all seated there. "I haven't had such a big crowd of people in the dining hall, not after the Selection," he adds with a laugh.

Toria smiles at him. "But less people,"

"This is so big," Toria's youngest brother, Ethan, comments. "But Adrian, I don't see the moat. Or the monsters. Where did you hide them?"

Princess Cassandra tries not to laugh. Her seven year old brother-in-law really is adorable.

Queen America takes a bite out of the tart. She closes her eyes. "Mmm," she says. "It's so good!"

Maxon starts laughing at her statement. The kids—and the other adults in the room—look confused. "Cass, Mom and Dad have a lot of inside jokes, don't they?" Spencer mutters his sister.

"Yeah, like the ear tugging thing. I just don't get it," Shalom puts in.

"Or the bet Aunt May's involved in." Cassandra adds.

"Um, why are you laughing, Uncle?" Anne asks.

"Because…Ames…has said that for twenty years and she's still not tired of it. And Aunt May got into the strawberry tart mess, too." Maxon laughs. May giggles. "Yea, apparently I was the only one who wasn't informed of that. But oh, well, at least Ames got her prince."

Laughter and chatter resume. Suddenly, a guard appears at the doorway. "Sorry for interrupting, your Majesties, your Highnesses, and ladies and gentlemen. There's someone out there, waiting in the front hall, who would like to speak with your Majesties."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, thanks for reading! Sorry that it's shorter than normal :( it's more of a filler chapter. Ish. Next chapter will be more exciting, I promise!<strong>

**Random Question of the Day (RQOFT): If you had to listen to either Imagine Dragons, Of Mice and Men, Black Eyed Peas or Beatles, for a whole day, which band would you choose? You don't have to answer if you don't want...**

**See ya on Monday!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hay guys!**

**Thanks for everyone who followed / favourited / reviewed!**

**Reviews:**

**theoneforever: Your review made me laugh! **

**selectionprincess59: They're awesome, right? What's your favourite song?**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Thanks! Of course you do, you typed that in ALL CAPS ;)**

**going for the win: Thanks!**

**In answer to last chapter's RQDFT, mine is Imagine Dragons! And I love love love Demons and Radioactive. **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 6•<p>

"Should I send her away, since she didn't make an appointment?" the guard continues.

Queen America shakes her head. "No, we'll see her. We're almost done our lunch, anyway. Tell her we'll be out shortly. Thank you, Officer—" she looks at his tag, "—Chamberlain,"

The guard bows and leaves. "Okay, looks like we best be going," America says, standing up from the table. Together, Ames and Max walk to the front hall. There, they see a young girl, sitting at a cluster of tables. She's about fifteen or sixteen. Cassie's age. The girl turns around at the sound of her footsteps. She immediately stands up and curtsies when she sees them. "Your Majesties. Thank you for agreeing to see me although I didn't set up an appointment beforehand." Maxon has a strange feeling, like he's seen this girl somewhere before. He's pretty sure he hasn't. But she looks really familiar. There's a nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

"It's alright. Tell us a bit about yourself before we get started."

"My name is Charmaine Elizabeth Carrington, your Majesties. I'm a Five, from Columbia. I have a sister and three brothers. I'm the second oldest. I'm sixteen years old."

"Wow, your family is as big as mine!" America comments.

"Charmaine, why are you here so suddenly and insistent to speak with us?" King Maxon asks, leaning forward.

Charmaine never anticipated that the King and Queen would agree to speak with her. She takes a deep breath. "What I say from now on will be completely relevant to what I'm trying to say. I cannot tell you directly, for various reasons."

The Queen subtly raises an eyebrow.

She pauses for a while, then starts. "I never knew I was adopted until a few days ago. My mother—my adoptive one, that is—she told me she adopted me a few hours after I was born. She used to be a Six and was a midwife at one point, so I know that she knows these things well. After she found me, she tried to ask the Provincial Office to ask anyone if they knew who the baby belonged to. No one sent in a letter the next few months about the identity of the child, so she decided to raise me as her own.  
>"And, your Majesties, Princess Cassandra is also sixteen, am I correct?"<p>

They nod.

"Coincidently, I was born on the same day as her: March 10. My mother can't determine what time, but she knows I was born on the 10th because if I was born the day before and was thrown out during the nighttime, I would've frozen to death, as that night was unbearably cold. And she found me in Angeles. I don't know what she was doing there, but I'm glad that she was there. Your Majesties, will you please help me find my birth mother?"

They nod again, confused. _Why is Charmaine telling us her family troubles? _Maxon wonders.

"And, Queen America, King Maxon, do you remember the words you said, twenty years ago, at the beginning of your reign?" the girl asks suddenly.

America is bewildered. What a strange question! And thy said many things at the beginning. Was there one that was significant…? Maxon answers for the both of them. "No, why?"

"Forgive me for saying so, but have you forgotten? My mother says that you said, 'This is the beginning of the end. The Castes will no longer be of existence and equality will be restored. Queen America and I are working hard to dissolve the Castes.' My mother told me that her family was ecstatic when they heard that. No longer would they live in poverty. They could have jobs they actually wanted, jobs that the Caste System restrained. They were going to be free. But it never happened." Her voice grows softer. "Your Majesty, Queen America, forgive me for saying so. I know what I say next is punishable by death. I accept that. But I am willing to sacrifice my life to save thousands of others."

"Unless it is major and you harm the Queen, the death penalty will not be handed out to you. But then again, it may, depending on the severity of your words."

Char takes a deep breath. She lifts her chin up, and looks the Queen right in the eye. "Your Majesty, have you forgotten what it's like to live in poverty? To go to bed hungry at night? To work so much and earn so little? To have your savings stretched as thin as a string? Have you forgotten your determination to eliminate the Castes before you entered the Selection, and during the Selection?"

King Maxon stands up, furious. "Charmaine Carrington, get out of this palace. Now. You are a hair away from a fine of $500 for insulting the Queen. One more word said and your family will be paying for something _you_ did."

But America surprises him. She gently pulls the sleeve of his jacket to sit him back down. "Maxon, it's alright. Charmaine is correct. I _did_ forget. Going to so many meetings and all—it totally changed my perspective. I _did_ forget how we went to bed hungry at night, how our income was stretched as thin as a string, how little we earned no matter what we did.  
>"I need to thank you, Charmaine. You brought me back, the America Singer part of me—the stubborn, hot-tempered part of me. The part who was going to eliminate the Castes, no matter what the cost."<p>

Char bows her head. "Thank you, your Majesty."

Her biological mother flashes her a smile. "It's alright, Charmaine."

King Maxon puts in, "Alright. If you want us to help you find your biological mother, we'll need as much information as possible. And al—" he is abruptly cut off by a blare of an alarm.

It's the rebels. The rebels are here.

* * *

><p><strong>*puts hands up* Woah, woah, woah. Don't kill me now. <strong>

**Random Question of the Day: What's your favourite Demi Lovato song? I'll have to say Really Don't care, Nightingale, Skyscraper, and Neon Lights! Okay, that's more than one. I can't help it! I'm a Lovatic!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys!**

**Thank you, everyone who followed / favourited / reviewed!**

**Reviews:**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Thanks! :) Did you know that some people say that Warrior and Skyscraper are linked together? As in, she is talking about the same thing in those two songs. I don't know if that's true, though.**

**going for the win: Well, you didn't offend me. :) Everyone has different preferences! Thanks! I like Skyscraper too. (:**

**QueenAmberly: Thanks! And yea me too. I love the music video :)**

**HorseGalFangirl9: That's why I put a little A/N saying not to kill me! I knew you were going to. Turns out I was right. Well, okay, good luck finding my house. And okay, okay, I don't want to get killed, here's the chapter. Happy? :) Ha! I love I Really Don't Care! too! You know why? It's to that big jerk I was telling you about earlier ... yeah, that one. The jerk. **

**Theoneforever: YAS! I love the lyric video and I loved watching their reactions when they saw Demi ... :) I know it does! Maybe it gets boring after this ... JUST KIDDING! (or not ...) You'll have to find out ;P**

**selectionprincess59: Me tooooo! And yea, Demons ... AHHHHH I love that song ... there's a lot of meaning to that song ... love love love love love it to pieces :)**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 7•<p>

Queen America grabs Charmaine's hand and rushes into the safe room. She assumes her husband is close behind. She pushes open the door and runs down the stairs, Charmaine following close behind. She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees her family and everyone else safe. Except for one person. Maxon.

Turning to their guest, Queen America asks Char, "Charmaine, was King Maxon behind you when I led you here?"

"Uh …" she hesitates. "I think he was behind me in the beginning. Some guards were with him. And then … I don't know what happened. Okay, I admit it. I was scared. I mean, this _is_ my first time, so I didn't know what to expect. But now, to think of it, I should've made sure the King was okay before I got in here."

The Queen gently rubs her back. "It's alright, Charmaine. I know what you mean. But I'm sure King Maxon's safe. He's a smart and resourceful man. He'll be safe, Charmaine. He's probably going to be in the servant safe rooms." Char's pretty sure Queen America's trying to reassure herself more than Char.

"Um, your Majesty, I'm curious. Why did you bring me here? I mean, I'm just a Five."

"To be frank, I don't know. I really don't know. Maybe being a mother of four impacted it. I just reacted on instinct. You know, motherly instincts?"

Char nods.

At that moment, the King bursts into the safe room. He is bleeding heavily. "Max!" America shrieks. She rushes over to him and tries to stop the flow. "It's alright, Ames," he says. "Just bring me to the first-aid place." She obliges and the nurses take over. She turns around to continue her conversation with Charmaine, but the sixteen year-old-girl is nowhere to be found. She spots Char in a corner, talking quietly with Toria's ten year old sister. She catches the Queen's eye. Char tells Sofia that she has to go talk to the Queen, and then leaves her.

King Maxon, now bandaged, goes over to where his wife and guest are sitting. He points a finger at her. "Charmaine Carrington, prove to me you're not a rebel. You come here, and suddenly, _BANG!_, the rebels are attacking. We haven't had one in months."

Char gulps. "Um, I'm not. I'm a Five, and the only I want to happen are for the Castes to demolish. But my best friend's mother was—maybe now, too—a Northern Rebel. I think, uh, she was in your Selection too. I mean, that's what Celeste said …"

"Celeste?!" Maxon and America exclaim together.

"Celeste is my best friend. She's a Three. Um, her mother was in your Selection, Queen America. I think."

"What's her name?" America asks.

Char hesitates. "Um, I don't know her maiden name. Her name is uh, Kriss Gonzalez."

America gasps. "I think that's Kriss Ambers. She was a Northern Rebel?"

"Don't look at me," Maxon says. "I had no clue, until now."

"And um, also, I don't know a lot about the Rebels. Only the amount that everyone else learns at school. I know I don't have much to prove to you that I'm not a Rebel, but I'm not! Honestly! I know you might not believe me, but I'm not. I would never want to harm you guys. Sure, I'm pissed at you that you didn't dissolve the Castes, but …" she stops, horrified at the words she just said. "Sorry, your Majesties. I didn't mean it that way."

Maxon glances at his wife. "Okay, Charmaine, we'll put this aside. For now. Why do you want us to help you find our birth parents?"

"I can't directly tell you, as I said before. But maybe, once you piece it together, it'll make sense why I'm asking you."

"Okay …? Anything else?"

"We're fraternal twins—we don't look alike. I don't know how my adoptive mother found out about that, but I'm just going to take her word for it. So when I find my mother and tell her, she won't believe me—because I won't look like her daughter, my twin. So do you think you can help me convince her?"

"Well, I can try …" Queen America says. "But I'll need more information."

This was working better than Charmaine expected. "Um, how about we talk about it with my mom? Like, my adoptive mom. Maybe then, my bio mom will believe me."

"Sure, that works, I hope. I really hope your birth mother will accept you."

Char cracks a small smile. "Yea, me too."

"Well, before you can prove to her that you're her daughter, you have to know her name. Do you know it?"

"Yea. And I think she's in the area, too. I mean, I think she's in the palace. I think."

"Do I know her, Charmaine?" Maxon asks.

"Yes."

"Charmaine, I know dozens of females here in the palace that can be your mother. Please, tell us. I don't understand. Why, if you want us to help you find our birth mother and convince her, not tell us her name?"

"Yes, he's right, Charmaine. You'll have to tell us everything for us to help you."

"You know the answer, your Majesties. I can see it,"

They are getting frustrated. _WHAT_ is the point of Charmaine's guessing game? And it takes a lot for the King and Queen to get frustrated.

At that moment, the door flies open. A guard walks in. "It is safe, your Majesties. You may go up now, but be careful of the glass." He says.

"Thank you, Officer Baker."

"No problem, your Majesties."

Once they are out of the staircase, King Maxon turns to Charmaine. "I hate for it to come to this. _Who_ is your mother? If you don't answer, the Queen and I will not continue to help you."

Queen America swears that for as long as she lives, 'till the day of her death, she will never forget the next few words that come out the sixteen-year-old's mouth. Never.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I promise, there will be a little game soon. <strong>

**And pleeease don't kill me now! I surrender! **

**Okay, RQOFD: What is your major obsession right now? It can be a thing, an actor / actress, singer, book, movie, song ... WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys!**

**Thank you everyone who followed / favourited / reviewed! It means a lot to me!**

**Reviews:**

**selectionprincess59: I love anime too. *gives you a virtual high five*. Well, the Selection, huh? I think that's everyone's obsession here. ;P But yea, that's mine too.**

**Theoneforever: Well, me neither :) Okay, okay, I'll update! I don't want you to die! Thanks!**

**ThisGirlActuallyReads: Cool! New reviewer (I think?). Haha, I can never keep track. Novels! Of course! I say they're better than video games or something. What do you think?**

**going for the win: Of course, chocolate! I love write chocolate. You know that gif about "my reaction when someone tells me whatever I'm eating is bad for me or something"? The guy giving the camera the finger? Yea, that one. That's my reaction. My friend says that her dad says that chocolate is apart of the food group. I totally agree. The Selection, yea, duh! Dancing? Uh ... I like watching it but not doing it. I have two left feet, ya know ;) And you'll see their reaction in this chapter :)**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Don't worry, I wont give your name away :) Five Seconds of Summer? I'll have to look that up sometime. It sounds cool. Okay, I just googled that. It's a band, right? Thanks!**

**QueenAmberly: Is this soon enough? I hope so :) And yea, I love America's temper. And Maxon's and America's fights. And May. And basically the whole thing in general.**

**Also, sorry, liverdiverz. Your character was mentioned last chapter, and I forgot to give you credit. I feel so bad now. :( Officer Timothy Allen Baker is liverdiverz's creation. She won one of the contests, so this is her character. **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 8•<p>

"Your wife," Charmaine simply states to Maxon.

He is stunned. He stares at her, gaping at her. He can't even move. It feels like he is underwater, with her words repeating over and over in his head. He finally comes to his senses and explodes. "That's it, I'm taking you to the prison and I'm—" America cuts him off.

"Maxon, calm down."

He rages even more. "I can't! What kind of person will claim that she is a princess, IN FRONT OF US? She—"

"She never did. Charmaine just said that I'm her biological mother." America says soothingly.

Char looks at them. "I told you my biological parents won't believe me. And I warned you. I told you that you wouldn't accept it. My mother told me this, I'm just relaying it to you. Have a nice day, your Majesties." She starts to walk away.

"Wait!" America grabs Char's arm. "Wait. How are you going to get home?"

"I'm going to walk."

"But it's a long way!"

"I know, but that's how I got here."

"I'm not letting you walk there by yourself, bio daughter or not. It's too dangerous."

Char sighs. "Okay. By the way, may I see Officer Leger?"

America raises an eyebrow. What a strange request! She glances at her husband. He shrugs. "Sure, I guess. But I'm going to keep an eye on you." Noticing his wife's strange look, he whispers, "He's a guard, he can protect himself."

They lead the girl up onto the third floor where Aspen's office is. Maxon knocks on the door and, without waiting for a reply, pops his head in. "Hello, Officer Leger. There is a girl here who wants to see you."

Aspen's confused. No one else other than the Royal family, his family or his maids request to see him, and occasionally. "Okay …? Let her in."

Maxon backs out and a honey blonde head pops in. "Hey Uncle Aspen!"

"UNCLE?!" America and Maxon simultaneously exclaim.

"Hey, Char! How's it going?" Aspen says, hugging his niece.

"Good, I guess? Uncle, can you drive the King and Queen and I over to my place? I hope you know the way!"

Aspen sends America and Maxon a questioning look. "Sure! Now?"

"Yea. Now."

* * *

><p>Officer Baker, the very guard who announced to the royal family just hours ago that it was safe to go back upstairs, and Aspen drive them to Char's house. Ames and Maxon are in the back. No one is informed of their departure. The guards are just told that they are out of town, working on some alliances and paperwork. No paparazzi, no cameras. Just peace. It's just them, the officers, the sixteen year old kid, and silence.<p>

"Officer Baker, Uncle Aspen, are you sure you're not lost? I've never seen this road before. Um," she corrects herself, "I mean, Officer … Leger." The name felt strange and foreign on her tongue.

Her uncle chuckles, whipping his head around so he faces her. "Oh, Char," he grins, his green eyes sparkling, "there's no need for formalities. 'Uncle Aspen' is just fine. You've called me that all your life! And Officer Leger sounds weird, coming from you."

"Okay," Officer Baker says, stopping the car. "Here we are. House 3694, Columbia, correct?"

"Yes." Char says, stepping out of the car. Her home is a pretty, two storey house. The paint isn't chipping, because as a family of painters, artists, and musicians, they sometimes have bits of leftover paint here and there which they use to pain the house when needed. She smiles. "Being home feels soooo good." Her uncle and the other guard bring up the rear, making sure no rebels or passers-by are watching them. Their Majesties' visit must be secretive and untold. If someone catches a whiff of that, their plans may be ruined.

America and Maxon walk up to the front porch and ring the doorbell.

* * *

><p>Kamber Carrington is washing up the dishes after the twins' afternoon snack when the doorbell rings. Jake, Sherri, Chase, and Kurt are in the backyard. They don't hear it. She hurriedly places the dish on the rack and opens the door. There, standing on her porch, is someone she thought she'd never see in person again.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>We have a game today :) And it involves the winner submitting a (kinda) important character :P How does that sound? Good? Okay, let's start.<strong>

**I have twelve questions for you to answer, and you either write true or false. The winner is whoever gets it all right, or the one who is the closest. In case of a tie, I will have to ask my friend to choose a number or something. **

**Looking on my profile might help a little, I don't know (I'll leave it up to you). If you have an account, PM me. If you are a guest, please review. **

**Good luck!**

**1) I hate udon**

**2) I am in Level ARCT for piano (I just took my exam a few days ago)**

**3) I have dyed /streaked my hair purple before **

**4) I used to live (kinda) near the forest, but I moved when I was two years old**

**5) A bear once invaded in my yard **

**6) I love summer**

**7) I hate Frappuccinos (it's too fattening)**

**8) I love coffee**

**9) I got a Pomeranian for my birthday **

**10) I love heights and roller coasters**

**11) I am Catholic**

**12) I love nature, I hate being cooped up**

**P.S. Here's a hint: doing some internet research may help**

**DEADLINE: Tuesday, July 29**

**Oh, and right: RQOTD: What is your favourite animal?**

**Thanks for reading, and good luck!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys!**

**Thank you everyone who faved / followed / reviewed!**

**Reviews:**

**selectionprincess59: I love giraffes too! :) When I was younger, I couldn't spell giraffes. Seeing your review reminded me of this. Also, I'm confused. What do you mean by "3"? **

**theoneforever: Thanks! I love pandas :) I went to a zoo in China and there were pandas there. I snapped a pic of two pandas sleeping. One was sprawled on its back, the other was sleeping in an upright position, whilst laying its head on the bamboo pile. It was funny. And yea soooooo fluffy! Okay we can die together then :P**

**Guest: Thanks! Here's the update! And what does your question mark mean ...?**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Thanks! And yea I got it :)**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 9•<p>

"America?" Kamber whispers.

"Kamber?" America returns, equally stunned.

She finally returns to her senses. "Your Majesty," she murmurs, sweeping into a deep curtsey. "Thank you for escorting my daughter home. How can I repay you?"

"Kamber, you don't have to curtsy to me."

"But—"

"We were friends before. We can still be friends now. The only difference is that you're my daughter's mother and I'm the queen. Not a big difference. So no more curtsying, or calling me 'your Majesty'. Just 'America' will suffice."

"But—" Kamber tries again.

"And that's final." Knowing full well that her friend will object, she adds, "and that's an order."

"Alright … America."

"That's better." The older woman remarks.

"In answer to your question earlier on how you could repay us, you can to one thing. I _do_ want answers. How you ended up with Charmaine, how you know that she's my daughter, et cetera." Another voice says. Maxon steps around America. "And please call me Maxon, Kamber. We," he motions to he and his wife, "are equal. If you don't call her by any titles—well, she asked you to—then you won't call me any titles. Okay?"

"Um … Queen America and King Maxon, can you please call me Char? That's what everyone in the house calls me, and you're here, so … yeah."

"Please, come in. You too, Aspen. And the officer, too. Unless you want to stay outside." Kamber says, opening the door further.

Aspen shakes his head. "As much as I want to come in and taste your delicious baking, I can't. Officer Baker and I have to patrol the grounds for rebels."

Kamber nods her head. "Okay, I understand." And then she shuts the door. Then to America and Maxon, "Hang on. I'm going to call the kids in. I think they might want to hear this." She walks to the back door and yells, "Kids! Come in! We have company! Jake! Sherri! Kurt! Chase! Come on!"

The kids walk as calmly as they can through the door. Once they reach the living room, where the King and Queen are seated, the kids immediately drop into curtseys and bows. "Guys, it's alright. No need to bow and curtsey for us. Sit down." Maxon says.

The four kids obey. "How about we start of by introducing yourselves?" America suggests. "You can start," she says, tapping on Sherri's shoulder. "I'm Sheridan Carrington. But call me Sherri. I don't like my full name," she says bluntly. "I'm eight years old and I'm the youngest."

Jake is next. "Jacob Carrington, eighteen. Call me Jake. I'm the oldest,"

"Kurt, thirteen minutes older than Chase, I'm eleven years old."

"Chase, I hate it when Kurt says that. I'm smarter than he is, though." If looks could kill, Chase would drop dead right this second.

"Charmaine Carrington, I'm sixteen years old."

"Kamber Carrington. I'm the kids' mother. Aspen is my older brother."

"Okay, continuing on. I know you're all wondering why we're here. Maybe we should turn the spotlight to Kamber." America says.

"Um, Queen America and King Maxon, you didn't introduce yourselves." Sherri pipes up. Her brothers shush her. She slumps into her seat. "Sorry," she mutters.

The Queen smiles. "It's alright. Okay, Sherri, since you asked. I'm Queen America and this is King Maxon. I'm not telling you my age, nor is Maxon. Now shall we continue?"

"Okay." She takes a deep breath, then starts from the very beginning. She closes her eyes, and lets her memory tell the story. It isn't Kamber speaking, it is her memory speaking.

{Flashback}

_Kamber walks quickly through the city. She keeps her head down, to keep unnoticed. It's getting late, almost seven o' clock, when the sun starts to set. The cold September wind blows through the Angeles city. She pulls her coat closer to her. It won't do much to protect her again the biting wind, but at least she can bit a little protected. It's better than nothing._

_A piercing shriek cuts into the air and brings the young woman out of her thoughts. She looks around. Did she imagine it? Did she imagine the screams? Everyone else is milling around, oblivious to the sound. Is she hallucinating? Is she getting hypothermia, because her coat is too thin? She hears it again. No. It's real. But no one is helping the baby. He—or she—will quickly succumb to the cold. She needs to save the poor babe. Find her mother, return the baby, and go home. _

_She follows her ears. It leads her around the corner. She finds the baby. In a pile of trash. Her mother didn't want her. Or maybe it was an accident? Probably. She—Kamber can see now that the baby is a girl—is wrapped in a blanket and is snug in a small box. _

_She walks around town, asking women she sees whether or not they know who this babe belongs to. No one knows, not even the town doctor. She asks the Provincial Office whether or not someone was looking for a newborn baby girl. They say no, but promise to call her if someone does. Kamber leaves her number with them._

_She can't let it die. She's so small, so helpless. This baby only came into this world less than a day ago. She knows this because if the baby was left here yesterday, when it was even colder, she'd be dead. And her umbilical cord hasn't fully healed yet. No, she can't let this poor thing die. She only has one thing to do. _

_She takes the baby home. _

* * *

><p><strong>REMINDER: The contest ends tomorrow at 11:59pm, eastern time. The rules are in the previous chapter. Thank you everyone who submitted! The winner gets to create a fairly important character. <strong>

**Also, I'm changing the name of this story. as of Wednesday (or something like that) this story will be re-named The Beginning of the End. This is still the same story! **

**RQOFD: What was the first word you thought of after reading this sentence? Tell me by review! (Credit goes to Connor Franta because I was watching one of his videos and when he did a Q & A someone asked him that question.)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys!**

**IMPORTANT: I won't be able to update so frequently anymore because my laptop went haywire and can't connect to WI-FI anywhere, so I'll have to do a lot of moving around and USB borrowing and copying and pasting to upload. So, yea ... Sorry about that!**

**There's a game, by the way! At the end of this chapter are the details.**

**Reviews:**

**Emily: Interesting guess ... haha you reviewed on the wrong story, so I was confused for a bit, but that's ok! You still made it :)**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: haha :P In answer to your question, read on to find out! If I tell you, it might spoil it a little ... Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: I'm starting to think that 'what' is the general reaction ... AND YAS you got an account! Awesomesauce! Thanks!**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Thanks! **

**MaryWayland: Yay! New reviewer! New people always make me happy! Thanks!**

**going for the win: Thanks!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 10•<p>

{Continue flashback}

_She carefully unwraps the child and places her on the floor, on top of a nearby blanket. There are some old clothes that Jake wore when he was a baby. They don't fit her, but that'll have to do. Thankfully, Jake is at Lena's house, so the house is completely quiet. She places the little girl in his crib. She waits until the baby falls asleep. Then she goes downstairs to see if the blanket or the box has any indication of who this baby belongs to. She takes the blanket first in her hands. When she feels the texture, she is shocked. What she first took for a blanket is actually a death sheet. Whoever delivered her thinks that she's dead. She turns the blanket around. There are no markings on it._

_She looks at the box. There aren't any markings on it, either. _

_It looks like this baby is an orphan. She won't adopt it, not yet. She will wait until the baby's first birthday, then Kamber and her husband will sign the papers. "Hmm, you need a name … of course, it's not official, but I can't call you baby." She thinks for a while. "How about Charmaine Elizabeth?"_

* * *

><p><em>When her husband, Callan Carrington, returns home after completing his paintings at a wealthy Two's house, he sees the baby in his wife's arms. Shocked, he drops the pile of clothes he wears when he paints in shock. "Wha…Who…Where…How…?" He can't finish his sentence. <em>

_"__Callan, meet our foster daughter, Charmaine Elizabeth Carrington." Kamber announces._

* * *

><p>"Hey, Spence, do you know where Mom and Dad are?" Shalom asks his brother.<p>

"No; I haven't seen them since the rebel attack. They were with this strange girl." Spencer replies.

"Hey, guys, do you know where Dad is?" Another voice asks.

"Hey, Adri." Spencer says. "Do you?"

"No, I was asking you guys. I just came out of a meeting."

"He and Mom have some important meeting out of town, apparently. They'll be back at around midnight or something." Cassandra says, stepping up to them boys. Her siblings look at her incredulously. She shrugs. "What? That's what I heard, Aunt Marlee ask a guard and that's what he said. I'm not going to eat dinner with you today. I have to ask Silvia something and it might take a while."

"Nor I. Toria and I are on a date. We're going to a Swendish restaurant."

Spencer looks at his brother. "Looks like it's just you and me, Shal."

* * *

><p><em>Two years later, Kamber is cleaning out the closet when she sees a corner of a blanket peeking out. The blanket is pretty thick, with <em>Property of the Palace of Illéa _stitched on the width. _Why do I have a Palace blanket in my closet? _She wonders. She pulls it out, and she realizes that it was the same blanket Charmaine was wrapped in as a baby. Shocked, she runs downstairs. The box is in the living room. When she looks closer at the beautiful mahogany box with a small seal stamped on the bottom, she realizes two things: One; the meticulously carved box is actually a coffin. A small coffin. They intended to bury her. Two; she has a Princess in her house._

* * *

><p>"Psst! Shal! Spence! Ethan!" Toria's other brother, Toby, hisses.<p>

"Yea?" Spencer asks softly.

"It's time for our paint-and-paper-and-water-balloon fight!" Shalom says. "Guys, be quiet! It's the four of us versus the other kids."

"So they know, right? I don't think it'll be really fair if we don't give them any warning." Ethan comments.

"Yeah, they know. I declared war on them five minutes ago. Come on, let's get our stash." Toby says.

"Tobias, you better not be playing your tricks inside the palace," his mother, Hazel, warns. When she uses his full name, Toby knows she means business.

"I _know_, Mom!" he yells.

The boys race into the gardens and huddle behind the bush. "They should be coming any second now," Toby says.

"Okay, Tobe. You're the captain."

Soon enough, the door opens. Without waiting to see who it is, the boys toss their paint balloons filled with paper at the person. It explodes in his face. "Now I see what her Majesty meant when she said that the boys would gang up on us and make a bunch of mischief," Gavril says, spitting the paint out.

* * *

><p><em>The next day, after telling Cal her findings, she calls the Illéan Palace and sets up an appointment to meet King Maxon and Queen America. The woman at the other end of the line tells Char that she will set up a time with the King and Queen. Char patiently waits, and after ten minutes, the woman gets back on the line. She says that their Majesties are available in the afternoon. <em>

_A car comes to drive Kamber and her little Char to the Palace. She is told to wait in the front hall, and that King and Queen will be down shortly. So she waits._

_And waits._

_Hours pass._

_And yet she still waits._

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you everyone for faving  following / reviewing! Those who do all three are awesomesauce!**

**There will be action soon, I promise. I'm not saying when, though.**

**Okay, here's the game: **

**I named some of my own characters after characters or people. **

**Tell me who I named after these people in my story:**

**Sheridan, Tobias (that's sooo obvious haha), Hazel, Cassandra, Kurt, Callan, Anne, Toria (Adrian's wife), Shalom, Spencer, and Elec. **

**I think there might be more, but that's all I can think of at the top of my head. **

**I know this is pretty hard, so here are the books, these characters are named after (in no particular order):**

****Glee, **The Fault in our Stars, a Greek Myth (not a story haha), **The Sweetest thing by Christina Mandelski, **an actor, Escape from Memory by Margaret Peterson Haddix, the Selection Trilogy , **Divergent Trilogy**.**

****HINT: for the actor: he's nineteen and he played Sam Goode in I Am Number Four****

****HINT: One of the characters' nickname (who I named my own character in this story from) is "Porcelain". That's a pretty big hint for those who know what I'm talking about  
><strong>**

****HINT: There are three characters that I named after the Selection Trilogy, they don't necessary have to appear in the books, but are mentioned (psst, check theselection . wikia .com!)****

****HINT: all of these characters are the main characters, or play a major role in their story, which I named them after****

****Good luck!****

****Thanks for reading!****

****Any suggestions / criticism on how to improve my writing are welcome! ****

****-Kiren****

****P.S. How many of you actually read these A/N's? ****


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys!**

**I know I said that I don't upload during the weekend, but I feel kinda bad because I only uploaded twice last week. This will only be a one-time thing, though.**

**Sorry, guys. I'm really tired so I'll answer reviews on Monday. **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 11•<p>

{Continue flashback}

_Finally, the same woman comes back and says that the King and Queen are very sorry, but they are unable to meet her. Kamber has to leave. _

_She tries to come back, year after year. They never come. Either the King or Queen are either at a meeting, have a gala, a party, or they're simply 'just busy'._

_This time, the woman prohibits her from trying to meet the King and Queen for the next five years. Before Kamber can ask why, the woman explains that this is a new law. The woman also says that if Kamber tries to visit their Majesties again, even after the five-year ban, she will be given a fine for harassing the Royals. Even though Kamber never set eyes on them, it's still called harassment. _

_It is now up to Kamber to raise the Princess._

{End flashback}

* * *

><p>"WHAT?!" Maxon looks furious. "There never was such law! I don't remember anyone telling me that a lady with her child was meeting me. Sure, that might have been sixteen years ago, but I keep track of all my meetings with the citizens. There are <em>no<em> recordings of such. They never told me!"

"I knew there was no law, but I couldn't risk getting fined or jailed. By then, Char was already seven years old, Jake was nine years old, and Kurt and Chase were three years old. Cal had four kids to raise. And Sherri was on the way, too." Kamber says softly.

"If no one told me, I'm not going to be surprised. I was still recovering from labour and Cassandra kept me up all night." America says.

"What's the lady's name? Do you remember it?" her husband asks.

"Um, Arabella Trevors."

"I'll have a talk with her," Maxon says. "Who knows how many other people have been turned away?"

"She probably turned me away because I was a Five," Kamber says forlornly.

"Wow, then I'm really lucky to have been accepted to talk to you guys," Char comments.

"Well, most of the guards are from the lower Castes, so they let in anyone, even Eights. Arabella was always a Two, so, that's why I think she didn't let your mother talk to us. So, yeah, I've probably seen only a handful of Lower Castes during my reign, and it was actually the guards who escorted them every single time."

"I'm going to give her a warning. If I find that she does it again, I'll fire her. She can't do this. I think this is one of the reasons why the Lower Castes are despising us. I think many have come over the years, but not all got accepted. I can't believe she actually did this! That's cruel!" America says.

"Mom, then why didn't you write to Uncle Aspen? He could've told America and Maxon. I mean, they're really close, like family. He could've maybe passed the message about Char." Kurt speaks up.

"Yeah, Mom, you usually won't let anything go unless it happens the way you want it to. Like, you won't rest easy. Remember when Char needed a spool of thread and a needle for school? You had the spool, but you needed the needle for something else. So remember how you somehow got the needle and worked extra hard and somehow, with a few tweaks, got the needle? You did it with so many twists and turns that we go completely lost? You wouldn't let anything get in the way of getting your prize: the needle." Jake adds.

"Chase and I are gonna get some snacks. Anyone want some?" Sherri suddenly asks.

"Slice of bread with honey," Kurt says.

"Orange juice,"

"Apple,"

"Tea, please." That was America.

"Just water will be fine."

"Kids, just don't get too much. It's also dinnertime," Kamber says, looking at the clock.

"Okay!" Sherri and Chase go into the kitchen, with Kurt at their heels. "I'm making my sandwich," he mouths, noticing his mother's raised eyebrow.

She turns back to her guests. "Honestly, I don't know. Well, maybe, I do. Char, don't forget, I already loved you even before I knew who you are. But maybe, I kinda thought …"

"Thought what?" Char prompts.

"That maybe you … could help us end the Castes." Kamber says the last part of the sentence so softly Char and the others strain their ears to hear it.

Charmaine Carrington explodes. She stands up angrily. "You just used me as a pawn! You never really loved me! You just wanted to use me to end the Castes."

"Char," Kamber tries.

"Ending the Castes, that was my goal, too! But now, it won't be as easy. I'm not going to help you anymore, Mom. I am _not_ a piece of human collateral damage. I am _not_ something you can use once and then throw it away. When you got your wish, when the Castes are gone, what were you going to do with me then, huh? Are you going to try to throw me away, like a piece of trash, like what happened to me sixteen years ago? Good thing I discovered your true intentions of you raising me, before I found myself on the street as an Eight. Good luck dissolving the Castes. I'm not going to help you. And besides, the King and Queen are here. Seems like you'll get your wish, Mom." Charmaine storms out of the room.

"Char!" her mother calls, but is cut off by the slam of the front door.

The three kids return with the food. "Hey, where's Char?" the youngest child asks.

"I don't know,"

The three kids set down the food. "Kids, we'll tell you when Char comes back."

Chase, Kurt, and Sherri leave.

"Why didn't you chase after Charmaine?" Maxon asks.

"We all know that Char is absolutely terrifying until she calms down. Once, Char was really mad and climbed a tree. Jake ran after her and told her that it was _his_ tree, and Char almost pummeled him to death." Kamber smiles a little.

"She'll by fine," Kamber says, looking at the closed door. "Char just needs to calm down and blow off some steam. She'll come back. She always does. And her fiery temper doesn't help, either."

"I think everyone knows where she got that from," Maxon says.

"And she's stubborn, too." Jake adds.

"I wonder where she got that from…?" America smirks. Maxon rolls his eyes and punches her playfully on the shoulder.

"Okay, we'll wait until she comes back, then."

* * *

><p>Ten minutes pass.<p>

Then twenty.

Then forty.

Then an hour.

Then two hours.

And she still doesn't come back.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, thanks for reading!<strong>

**And thanks everyone who reviewed, followed, or faved! (or did all three :P)**

**-Kiren**


	12. Chapter 12

•Chapter 12•

**Hey guys!**

**Here, agb1700's , theoneforever's, and HorseGalFangirl9's characters are mentioned, Prince Zachary of France, Arabella Trevors, and Amelia, respectively. **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>Kamber paces back and forth, ringing her hands. "Oh, where is she? I let her run off to calm down, but I give her a time limit: forty-five minutes at the most. She never used this much time, not even when Kurt accidentally ruined her week-long project."<p>

America and her husband rise. "We'll send out a search party if she still doesn't turn up by tomorrow morning, okay?" America puts a comforting had on her friend's shoulder. "Call us at around 9:30 to 10:00. We don't have any meetings. If you don't call, I'll call you, okay? Just to make sure that Char is back and that Arabella is obeying orders."

Kamber nods. She walks them to the door. "Bye, America. Bye, Maxon." Kamber sees her brother. "Aspen!" she whispers.

His head snaps around. "Kam, what is it?"

"Char's missing," she says frantically. "She got mad and then she ran off two hours ago. She isn't back yet. I know she's very aware of the time limit. Did you see her?"

He shakes his head. "Sorry, Kam. I'll keep a lookout for her. Are the other kids looking for her?"

His sister nods.

"I'll keep my eyes peeled. She's a smart girl. She won't get hurt, or kidnapped. She's a fighter. You and I both know that. She won't be captured. She'll be fine," Aspen says, but his facial expression says otherwise. He's trying to convince himself, too.

* * *

><p>Charmaine runs. She knows she should turn back, but she is too mad. How dare her mother use her as a pawn to dissolve the Castes? She runs for an hour, maybe more. She's getting tired, but she keeps on running. Good thing her school made her and her class run five kilometres once every two days. She is used to running long distance.<p>

She doesn't know where she is. Char is lost, but she won't ask for help. Not after what happened. She suddenly sees two people talking. They're palace guards. They're heading back to the palace. _Just my luck_, she thinks. Char doesn't know what will happen if they discover her, or if they are actually not going to the palace. But she decides to risk it.

* * *

><p>After what seems like an eternity, the truck finally stops. The guards hop out. They lock the doors. Char leaps out of the crate and heads to the front entrance. Three people are there, along with Princess Cassandra, who's talking to one of them. She walks up to the Princess after she's done her conversation. "Hello Princess Cassandra. Remember me? I briefly saw you this afternoon."<p>

Cassie recognizes her. "I remember you. Your name starts with a C, right…?"

"Yes. Charmaine. May I please see Lucy Leger?"

Cassandra asks the guy she was talking to earlier. "Zach, can you please get Officer Leger's wife, Lucy, and tell her someone wants to see her?" The guy—Zach—nods. Turning back to the girl, she says, "I don't trust you, but since my parents were talking to you, I guess you aren't a rebel. But it doesn't mean I'll be getting a few guards to watch you at all times.

Lucy comes down the stairs. "Cass, what is—oh." Seeing Char explains everything. She embraces her niece. "Char, why are you here? Isn't it a long way from Columbia?"

"Aunt Lucy, it's a long story, but can I stay here for one night? I can sleep anywhere, I just need a bed and a blanket … I won't be any trouble at all, I just want a place to sleep for one night." She says.

"Do you think that can be arranged?"

Cassandra nods. Turning to the guard standing next to her, she says, "Officer Harder, please arrange a place for Miss Charmaine to stay. If she is Mrs. Leger's niece, I'm not that wary of her." To Char, she says, "And Charmaine, you will only have tonight to stay. Only tonight. You also will have no maids, just a set of clean clothes for you. Understand?"

Char nods. "Yes, your Highness."

Her twin sister whispers, "I hate to be like this, Charmaine. But ever since the rebel attack yesterday, I've been wary of everyone. I mean, anyone can be a rebel! But I trust Officer Leger and his wife. So, well, if she can trust you, I guess I don't have to be suspicious of you. But it doesn't mean I'll warm up to you right away." She grins.

Char returns it. "Me neither."

* * *

><p>A maid leads her into her room. As soon as her head hits the pillow, she's out like a light.<p>

* * *

><p>The sun streams into the room. Char looks around, confused, before remembering what happened the day before. There is a knock on the door. "Char?" A familiar voice calls out.<p>

Crap.

* * *

><p>"Amelia, are you sure they don't suspect anything yet?" a hushed voice asks.<p>

"Yes, I'm sure. They still think that the baby is a stillborn. And that we buried her already. Unless they dig up the files and history, or steal it from us, they won't know."

"Good. Then our plan is in place. Do you have the files?"

"Yes, Commander Vincent."

"Where's Arabella?"

"I don't know. Oh! She's coming now."

"Sorry, Commander Vincent," she says, out of breath. "The King just gave me a warning. He caught on to me not helping the Lower Castes when they called. Ya know, I would fake their Majesties responses?"

He shrugs. "It'll be okay. When will we carry it out?"

"Soon. They'll never know what hit them."

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think is happening? Tell me in a review!<strong>

**Reviews (from chapter 10 and 11):**

**Theoneforever (2): yup! Thanks! Yea, but it's true! Okay, here's the update!**

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**PrincessIndia (2): Yay! New reviewer! Thanks! **

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**agb1700: Yay, someone reads my (kinda, not really) looooong messages! **

**going for the win: OMG HAHAHAHAHAH! That must've been super awkward! And it happened to me, too … it just wasn't so awkward. And thanks! I swear it hates me because the day after I tell y'all, it works again! Ugh!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt (2): yay! New reviewer! The Beatles, hmm? I loooove "Let it Be"! How about you? And thanks! Here's the update! **

**RQOTD: What's a funny experience that happened to you? I'm bored and I need to humour haha**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys!**

**Thank you everyone who followed, favourited, and reviewed!**

**As per requested, here are the answers to the little quiz of the true/false thing. **

**1. F 2.F (it didn't start yet … ) 3.F (though I wish I did) 4.T 5.T (Yes, and it crapped in my yard, too -_- ) 6.F 7.F (I honestly don't care … it tastes good, I eat it) 8.F (EW!) 9.F (I wish …) 10.T 11.F 12.T**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 13•<p>

She opens the door. Her mother, America, stands on the other side, hands on her hips. "What were you thinking, Charmaine?! Scaring your poor mother like that? You better give her a call, so she won't worry herself to death. Why did you run off like that? Do you know how dangerous that was? And how did you come here, anyways? Do you know how much you scared your mother?" she scolds.

"I'm not giving her a call. I'm not sorry for what I did. Okay, I admit that running off like that wasn't my best idea, but I'm not going back there. Not after finding her true intentions." Char says defiantly. "How did you find me here, anyways? How do you know that this is my room?"

"Lucy told me. Your uncle Aspen—"

"He's not my uncle," she mutters.

"—and your brother and mother are really worried about you. The least you could do is reassure her and tell her that you are safe. I know that you are furious, but Kamber really does love you. Maybe she _did_ want the Castes gone, but she loved you. That's why she saved you." America says gently.

"Maybe you're right, but I'm not giving her a call, and I'm definitely NOT going back there," the girl is stubborn. She won't go back there.

"But Charmaine, do you want your mother to be worried about you?"

"No. But I'm not giving the call. I already told you that."

America sighs. This girl is as stubborn as Maxon. "I'm not going to try to convince you. You're every bit as stubborn as your father, and I know from experience convincing super-stubborn people never work. Just think it over, and tell me what you think you'll do. You have to do _something_, at least."

She groans. "Fine. You can give her a call. I'm not speaking to her at the moment."

"We can discuss this over breakfast, okay? Here's some clothes of Cassandra's. I think it'll fit you nicely, since you two are twins." Her mother hands a pair of jeans, flats, and a pale blue t-shirt.

"Thanks,"

* * *

><p>Maxon leads her down to the dining hall. He doesn't scold her about yesterday, to Char's surprise. "We're not going to reveal who you are yet," he whispers. "We're just going to introduce you as Aspen's niece, since that is what Cassie knows you by. And good thing the guests left yesterday, after we left to meet Kamber. So it's just the seven of us, including Toria, Adrian's wife."<p>

They sit down. "Guys, this is Charmaine. She's Aspen's niece and will be staying with us for a while." Her father announces to his family.

Everyone greets her and then they all dig into their breakfast: French toast, orange juice, scrambled eggs, fruit, and omelette, and bacon. "I think I'm in heaven," Char mumbles. "This food is so good,"

America smiles; she remembers the day she first tastes such rich and delicious food. "Charmaine, that was my reaction when I first tasted this, too."

"Please, your Majesty, please call me Char. No one calls me that, and it sounds so formal."

"Alright. Char, don't procrastinate. You can't put off not calling her forever. How about we call her after we're done our breakfast? We'll see if she calls first."

* * *

><p>When they finish their breakfast, Cassandra decides to talk to the new girl. She looks like she could use some company. As she leaves the dining hall, Cass quickly follows her. "Hey!" Cassandra says, tapping her shoulder. She holds her hand out. "Your name's Charmaine, right? I'm Cassandra. Call me Cassie or Cass."<p>

For a second, Char debates whether or not she take her twin's outstretched hand. She settles on a curtsey. Cass shakes her head. "None of that. I'm not going to accept you curtseying at me every single time we talk." She insists.

Char still looks unsure. Cassandra's hand is still out. "Just shake my hand, silly," Cassie says, grinning.

"Oh, okay." She takes it.

"Um, your Highness—"

"Cassie," Cass interrupts firmly.

"_Cassie_, do you know the way to America and Maxon's study?" seeing Cassandra's raised eyebrow at the informal names, Char explains, "When we met yesterday, they insisted that I drop the titles and just call them by their first names. I know I shouldn't, but well, they told me to."

"Here we are," she says. "I know you feel kinda awkward here. I can sense it, for some reason. Maybe I'm getting better at reading people? But anyways, if you want to talk or just chat, go to the Women's Room. I'm usually there, except when I'm sleeping, of course. I know last night, I said that I didn't trust you, but I figured that you're probably not a spy or whatever. Dad doesn't let just _anyone_ eat with us, unless there are guests."

She knocks on the door.

"Come in," America says. Char pushes the door open. She smiles. "Ah! Char, there you are. You here to make the call?"

"Can you please do it for me? I'm still not speaking to her,"

Her mother sighs. "Alright. But next time, you're speaking to her, okay?"

Char nods.

Her mother picks up the phone and dials the number for the Carrington house. She glances at the green clock on the wall. It reads _10:17_. There are no missed calls. Someone on the other end picks up. "Hello?" a male voice asks.

"Hello, is Kamber there?" America asks.

He pauses. "Yes, she is. I'll get her right now."

"Hello? America?"

* * *

><p>"Peter, where's the girl?" a voice demands<p>

"Right here, Commander Mitchell."

"Good, thank you, Peter. Girl, what's your name?"

"Therese," the girl timidly says.

"Therese, you know why you're here?" the girl shakes her head no. "You are going to impersonate the supposedly 'dead' princess, Charmaine. She is apparently the twin sister to Princess," he spits out the word, "Cassandra. You are the same height, have similar facial features, same hair length, and same eye colour. Well, almost the same. Your hair is brown, but nothing a little dye can't fix." He smiles. "Aaaaaand … you are going to have the girl, Charmaine, killed, and then you take her place as princess. Stage an accident for the royal family, take the throne, and rule. And after that … you know what will happen to Illéa. You can rule alongside me, of course."

Therese doesn't want to do this. Charmaine used to be a close friend of hers. But she has no choice. She has to do this-kill the Royal family, or she and her parents and siblings will die. If she performs her tasks well, her family gets better food and clothing. If she fails, they get whipped.

"Yes, Commander Mitchell. I understand. When shall I make my appearance?"

"When I deem you ready enough to take on the role. They need some more 'family quality time' before they head to their deaths, hmm?" He quietly laughs. "They'll never see it coming. We won't lose."

* * *

><p><strong>DUN DUN DUN …! Haha, sorry, I had to add that :P<strong>

**Reviews:**

**agb1700: Haha. …! I think they're pretty long … or maybe it's just me? Thanks!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Haha … I didn't name her Arabella, theoneforever did ;) And ooh, I love acting! I think it's fun! I think it's funny. Well, that makes both of us. Oh, well. Apparently I'm too weird … whateves, I guess? Thanks! Here's the update!**

**going for the win: Haha, I know what you mean. Before I moved, my old house's floors were partly tile/wood, and partly carpet. I used to run around on the tile/wood floor in my socks and always fell—or crashed into a wall. ;P Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Woah, girl! Don't make me deaf, dude! Lol. Thanks! And okay, of course you're proud of her … so, so, proud! Thanks! Here's the update!**

**Dramalover2000: Yay! New reviewer! From your username, I can tell two things: You love drama (acting) and you're born in 2000. Am I correct? I'm born in 2000, too! ****J****Thanks! **

** : New reviewer! Woohoo! And haha, you're on Team Aspen. Cool username! Here's the update! The answers are at the beginning of the chapter. Thanks!**

**RQOTD: if you could domesticate any animal as a pet, what animal would it be?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**

**P.S. I named Peter after Peter Hayes from Divergent ... ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hay guys!**

**Here's a new chapter! ****Thank you everyone who faved, followed, and reviewed! I love the reviews! They make me laugh … ;P**

**There's a message for y'all at the bottom of the chapter … it's good, I promise!**

**Reviews:**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER 123: Awe I love koalas … I pet one before! And as for that … I'm sorry. You'll have to read on to see if Char dies! Thanks!**

**going for the win: A bear? True, they can swim and walk ****_and_**** climb trees! A flying bear will probably terrorize the neighbourhood though, don't you think? A dinosaur?! Girl, your imagination is starting to freak me out! If dinosaurs were back, we'd be screwed. Probably. Thanks! I know … I don't want either of that to happen … Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Thanks! Yay! I don't didn't go deaf this time! Here's the update!**

**Dramalover2000 (3): Your review made me laugh. MILLENIUM BABIES DO RULE! I know what you mean. My little brother is ten years old, and I swear he's part animal and part human. He runs around the house and ugh … little brothers … Here's the update!**

**Mrs. AspenLeger: Wow! 10/12?! Good job! No one got that high of a score! I'll find something for you to do :) ****Wow all the girls?! All my friends are Team Maxon. Haha! Okay, sure, your name already tells me everything. Haha. **

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Thanks!**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Love ya too! ****J**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Sorry buddy. I had to :P Yea, it aggravates me too! Thanks! YAS JUSTIN BEIBER he's an animal … hahahahaha :) ****Yea, we could ship him off to some crazy Belieber and they'd be the happiest kid alive. What's more, he put shame to my country. Giving him to a Belieber will make a lot of us happy :) ****And everyone's insane in some way :P**

**N: New reviewer! Yay! Awe I love baby polar bears! They're so cute!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 14•<p>

"Hello? America?"

"Kamber, I didn't get a call from her."

"I know. I couldn't reach you. I called about half an hour ago, Arabella picked up, and told me that the King and Queen were busy. I tried to tell her that we set up an appointment, but she said that they are declining all meetings right now."

"Okay, we're going to give her a warning. And Kamber, Char's at our place. She's refusing to talk to you right now—"

"Hey, I'm right beside you, ya know," Char cuts in, annoyed.

"—so I'm the messenger. She's okay."

"Oh, good," Kamber's relieved. "How did she get to there?"

"I don't know," America says. "But she's okay. I need to go, now. I have a meeting soon. Bye!" She turns it off.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Char asks a nearby maid the directions to the Women's room. The maid leads her to the room. "Thank you!" Char smiles at the woman. She smiles in return but doesn't say anything.<p>

She pushes open the door. Just as she expected, Cassandra is there. "Hey, Cass!" She waves.

"Hey, Char! How's it going?" she greets as she bounds over.

"Not good," she confesses. "I feel out of place. I mean, you're a One and I'm a Five."

"Caste doesn't matter," Cassandra says, "Mother was a Five once. She probably understands, right?" Char still looks unsure. Her sister pats her back. "Just relax, Char."

"Okay … I'll try,"

When Char closes the door, Cass can't shake the feeling off. She looks familiar, although she's never seen her before. Cassie feels a connection, a strong connection, between them, although she's only known her for a day.

She feels like her significant other.

* * *

><p>"How are we supposed to break it to them?" America asks.<p>

"Just tell them?" Maxon offers.

"They'll think we're joking."

"True."

"I hate to say this, but should we let Char let them herself? We can just back her up." She suggests.

"Or let the kids find out for themselves."

"Yea, that sounds better."

* * *

><p>Cassandra gathers her siblings around the table. "Guys, did you get some kind of strange vibe about the new girl? Not necessary bad, but just a vibe?"<p>

"No, why?"

She shifts her eyes to the doorway. If her parents find out that they're discussing this, they're as good as dead. She normally doesn't do this, but Charmaine was being really strange. Like she was harbouring a big secret. What if she came to the palace to harm her family?"

"Well, I don't know … I feel as if Char is hiding some big secret. Like one that could cost Char her life or something. I don't feel threatened around her, she's been pretty nice, actually."

"And don't you find it strange that she popped up out of nowhere in the middle of the night?" A new voice asks. The siblings jump, startled. Ut they relax once they see who it is. Prince Zachary.

"Zach!" Cass cries. "Don't give us a heart attack! But true, it _did_ seem pretty strange. No cars passed through the gates, though. Only a grocery truck."

"Or the fact that Mom and Dad just let her stay? They normally don't do that."

"Even if she's Uncle Aspen's niece, it doesn't mean she can do whatever we do." Four heads nod in agreement. "She ate breakfast and lunch with us, Mom and Dad are being really nice to her, even nicer than normal, and they're usually just polite to guests! And she even got called into their study! Their _study_! We barely get to go in ourselves, let alone some girl we never met before!"

"It doesn't really add up, don't you think? I mean, with the …" Spencer's siblings groan. "Spence!" they cry. "Stop! We don't need another scientific explanation for something! Remember what happened last time?" He looks slightly hurt but quickly recovers.

"Hey, hey, hey." Zach cuts in. "Let him say what he has to say. And besides, I'm interested to hearing his theories. I mean, they actually might be legitimate."

"You don't need to speculate," a female voice says. "I'm going to tell you. You may not believe this, but this is the truth. You have to accept it sooner or later. America and Maxon already do." Charmaine walks up to the table.

She takes a deep breath. She hopes her siblings won't freak out or something. Or laugh in amusement, thinking that she is just kidding or pulling a prank on them.

"I am the twin sister of Princess Cassandra."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is going to work?"<p>

"This has to; they haven't taken down the castes yet. It's time to take matters into our own hands. This can_not_ fail. But, there is a piece missing. This piece is the most important piece of all."

His assistant, Casey, starts to say something, but is cut off by a _beep_! from his monitors. The Commander shushes him. "Shh," he says sharply. He surveys his intricately hidden cameras and recorders around the palace. It came from the dining hall. There, he hears it loud and clear. "I am the twin sister of Princess Cassandra."

He turns to Casey. "The last piece just fell into place. Our plan is complete."

* * *

><p><strong>READ MESSAGE BELOW:<strong>

**I mean this from the bottom of my heart. Thank you everyone who gave the time to read, review, follow, and favourite this story! It means so much to me. When I first uploaded the first chapter, I thought that no one would read this story. But I gave it a shot. I'm glad I did. I would've never been able to get this far if it weren't for your support. I have started many stories over the years, but I have only been able to finish one, and that was because it only had 300 words. And that was 3 years ago. **

**If it weren't for your reviews encouraging me to go on and keep writing, this story would've stopped ages ago. But no, you keep urging me to go on. I really and sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart. Every single one of you. Thank you so much for supporting me, and I hope I can continue to get your support in the future. Virtual hugs and cookies and candy to every single one of you. Thanks so much!**

**-K**

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading!<strong>

**Sorry this chapter wasn't so exciting. The next chapter will be, though!**

**RQOTD: Which team did you cheer for in the World Cup? **

**-Kiren**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hai guys!**

**Here's Chapter 15!**

**Thank you everyone who faved, followed, and ****reviewed****! It makes my day!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 15•<p>

The entire dining hall falls silent. Finally, Prince Adrian stops the silence. "Hahahaha …" he says humourlessly, "nice try. There is no way in hell that you are Cass' twin sister. My sister here could actually throw you in jail for treason. And only an idiot would believe that crappy story of yours. Hell no are _we_ believing that—"

"Language, Adri," his mother says, walking into there.

"Mom! You heard what she said?" Cass says.

She nods. "She's actually telling the truth, you know."

"What?!" they exclaim.

"I never knew until a few days ago, actually. I know, this is really shocking. But she really is the twin sister of Cassie. The doctor thought she was dead. Your father and I decided that she won't need a DNA test, but if you insist, then we will. I already know that she is my daughter because even though I've been around different children my whole life, I've never felt so … connected and motherly over any child."

"And my first thought, when I saw her, was that she looked really familiar, even though I never saw her before," Maxon adds. "That's because she looks like Cass but also opposite of her."

Cass jumps up. "How about we compare features?"

"Yea!"

**(A/N: If you want to see the comparison list they made of their features and description and stuff, it's the next chapter)**

* * *

><p>"Okay, yea, I can see why no one recognized you. You look nothing like me, but you do at the same time."<p>

"You just contradicted yourself." Char points out.

"I mean, you are like me, and you aren't at the same time. Now that we looked closer, I can see a lot of subtle resemblances, but we are both pretty different all the same. So we are polar opposites and yet totally similar."

"You're definitely not like me when it comes to personality—my brother, Jake—wait, he isn't my brother anymore, argh it's so confusing!—says that I have the worst temper in the world. And apparently I'm too stubborn for my own good."

"Dad, she'll have her coronation soon, right?" Shalom asks his father, who's standing nearby, watching his kids talk and bond together. He nods. "Soon."

"Speaking of that," Char begins, "no. I'm sorry guys, but I refuse to by crowned Princess until you dissolve the Castes."

Everyone gaps at her. "Why?"

She sighs. "It's just that I want what the citizens want: Freedom. Quality. A diverse but fair country. A place where people work for something they are gifted at. A place where its politicians are elected, not born into. There may be a Seven who is a gifted politician and who can help Illéa, but he can't because the Castes won't let him. No more poverty. No more Castes. We are all suffering. We can't have jobs we want, can't do what we want, how much we can learn—the Caste System restricts all that. I have experienced this first-hand. So has America. We both know how's it's like to live poorly. I'm prioritizing what I have to do. Dissolving the Castes is the top thing on my to-do list. Getting crowned isn't. If the Castes don't exist, Illéa may be a better place."

* * *

><p>Back at the Caste Rebel Base, Commander Vincent smiles as he hears her words through his recorders. "Spoken like a true ruler," he grins.<p>

"I think she'll made a great leader one day. She should be crowned Crown Princess. Not that Adrian prince. Her. Charmaine. The Five. She actually understands us." Another voice says. Terri. "We should do something about that. But of course, we should check to see if she's actually genuine. For all I know, she could be faking to sugar up the King and Queen. I mean, who knows? She actually might be a Southern rebel. We can send Caroline to the palace to check on Charmaine and survey her actions. She can become a maid. Charmaine's maid."

"I agree,"

* * *

><p>"You'll need a new room on the fourth floor and probably three maids." Maxon tells his daughter the next day. "Since you're a part of this family now, you'll need to be one of us."<p>

"Nope," Char refuses.

He wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion. "Why not?"

"I don't want any special treatment. I'm just a Five. Sure, I may be blood-related to you guys, but until the world—or at least the nation of Illéa—accepts me, I'm not a part of your family. Being blood-related doesn't mean anything. The Carringtons are my family, not the Schreaves. My real name may be Charmaine Elizabeth Schreave, but I'm not her. I'm Charmaine Elizabeth Carrington. That's who I am. Cassie may be my sister, but so is Sherri. I will be able to join your family, but I don't think it'll be anytime soon. But … I want both of my families to meet. Do you think that can be arranged?"

America raises an eyebrow at her. "So you're not mad at Kamber anymore?"

"I still am, it's just that I think it's necessary, for my two families to join into one."

"Mom, are you sure my little sis here is the younger one?" Adrian says, ruffling her hair. Char yanks his hand off. "I think Charmaine—"

"Call me Char, Adrian. And you guys too,"

"—here is pretty smart."

She snorts. "Just because I'm a Five doesn't mean I can't have good grades. I get straight A's at my school."

Cassie jumps up, grinning. "Oh yeah? Adri's just lying. I'm a pretty good student—or so Silvia says. And you know, she's pretty strict."

As if on cue, a voice calls, "Cassandra! Adrian! Shalom! Spencer!"

Char's sister and brother groan at the same time. "Time for my lessons. Char, you can come too." Cass explains. "You have to learn _something_ on Princess etiquette, even if it's basic. Like, how to act super stiff and rigid and not at all life-like on camera and the _Report_—okay, I made that one up, but it feels like that, how to hold a fork …"

"What?! There's different ways on how to _hold_ a fork?"

"Yea. And how to shake out a napkin—yes, that exists, how to run—actually, that's more of a walk—in a dress, how to …"

"Yay," Char says, sounding not that thrilled as they open the door to the Women's Room. "This will be fun."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this chapter isn't so exciting. It's just a filler chapter!<strong>

**Reviews:**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: I see**

**N: Yea, I hate cliffies too. But they make the story more exciting, so it's worth it :)**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Here's the update! Please don't die! Yea, Olaf. I get it :P And oh, I can see why. I cheered for Argentina **

**PrincessIndia: Ah, I see. Well, Germany got won, so I bet that you were happy. And thanks! **

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Cool! Just don't make me go deaf next time ;P**

**going for the win: Ah, I see. YEA JURRASSIC PARK! My folks watched it and they said it was as scary as hell. They promised to rent the movie sometime later so I can get the crap scared out of me. Well, make it an herbivore, okay? I'd rather have it eating up my pears than it eating me! Okay, at least I'm not the only one. Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Cool! Thanks! And *mysterious voice* you'll have to see about that … **

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Oh, yea, I see what you mean. So you're not that patriotic? YAS your friend has an awesome idea! That'd definitely work and a bunch of us (like you and me) would go crazy with happiness, now that he's gone. And a crazy fan would. Thanks!**

**Radical Kiwi (Chapter 12): Yay! New reviewer! Awesome name, by the way :) You'll have to see about that … Thanks!**

**Mrs. AspenLeger: Thanks! And wow! I gave this quiz to my friend and she only got 9/12! Well, here's more!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**RQOTD: Frozen or Tangled?**

**-K**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hai guys!**

**Thank you everyone who faved / followed / reviewed! It makes my day!**

**THE 100****TH**** REVIEWER GETS TO SUBMIT A CHARACTER!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 16•<p>

Weeks pass. Char studies a bit of proper etiquette, and continues her lessons. She's usually a really good student, but today, she can't concentrate. Today, her family—adoptive family, that is—is coming to visit her! On top of that, they were going to introduce her on the _Report_. "Charmaine!" Silvia snaps her fingers in front of her face. "Concentrate! You aren't here to daydream, you're here to learn."

Charmaine shakes herself out of her thoughts. "Yes, Silvia."

"Okay, now, we'll work on the outline of what you're going to say at the _Report_ tonight. Improvise, but stick to the main thing. Don't linger to long, but don't rush into it either. And remember that you have to speak clearly. Not too loud, not too soft. Don't talk in your normal voice, just a bit louder. Don't yell, either. And be poised and regal-looking, because once they find out, even if they don't believe you, they'll be watching you very closely. Be sweet, but held in. And don't slouch, make your back as straight as possible. Walk in small steps and …"

This is going to be a long, long day …

* * *

><p>"Char!" A voice yells.<p>

"Sherri!" Char shrieks in excitement, much to Silvia's disapproval. And the sixteen year old is totally oblivious to her death glare, directed at her.

Sherri runs and tackles her big sister in a big hug. "Char, Char, I missed you so much! I have to tell you so much! Yesterday Jenny threw up during lunch time and then some of my friends got sick because Jenny threw up but I didn't and although some of the vomit got on some people none of it got on me. But one guy threw up in the sink. And also, last week, some kid tripped and got his butt stuck in a barrel and …" she chatters.

Char laughs. "Woah, woah, woah! Hang on, let me hug the rest of them. Then you can tell me, okay?" She moves to hug her twin brothers first. Kurt makes a face and tries to peel her arms off him but it doesn't work. "Uh, missed you too," he says, awkwardly hugging back.

His twin, however, welcomes her hug. "Char! I missed you!" He hugs her back.

Jake hugs her. "The house was sure a lot quiet without you, Sis,"

She even hugs her mom, to Kamber's surprise. "Uh, you're not mad at me anymore?"

Char raises an eyebrow. "That, I'm not going to answer. We're here so both of my families can bond, not talk about the past. You're welcome to stay here for about a week, I think. That's what America said, anyway."

"I changed my mind," America says. "If you want, this can become your permanent home. I'm sure Char would like that. And you would too."

Kamber's eyes grow as wide as saucers. "You're joking right?"

America shakes her head. "I'm not. I'm totally serious. But your jobs are the problem. Kamber, you perform, right?" Kamber nods. "Well, I think there's an open job near here. Jake what do you do?"

"Sculpt,"

"You can make pottery pieces here and sell them. That's what you did at home, correct?" He nods. "Char, and you …"

* * *

><p>After they're done sorting the jobs out, the Carringtons agree. "You may still be Fives, but at least you will lead a more fortunate life." America says.<p>

Kamber thanks her friend over and over. They can finally live more comfortably, her children can have more food, and they won't have to go to bed hungry anymore! "Thank you so much, America! You have no clue how much this means to me—and my children." She hugs her friend tightly.

"That's the least I could do,"

"How can we ever repay you? We're going to live under _your _roof, eat your food … Ames, this is too much! We're going to be using your money!"

"Consider it a thank-you for taking care of my daughter for so long, and taking her in when no one else would. And I'm sure other people could've heard Char screaming. The people just didn't want to save her. Many Twos live and work near the palace—they were just too selfish to think about saving her. If Char's wail was as loud as Cass, you'd have to be deaf in order to be totally oblivious to the sound. I'm sure people could hear Cass' howl a mile away."

"Oh, yes, Char could've torn down the house with her little baby yell." The two women smile at each other.

* * *

><p>"And we're on in three … two … one … WE'RE ON!" The cameraman shouts.<p>

"Hello and good evening, Illéa!" Gavril Fadaye says perkily.

Him saying those words bring a wave of nostalgia to Char. She remembers how she and Cel used to laugh at his words. They'd mock them and complain about him and his perky voice.

Char needs to focus. _Focus, Char_. She tells herself.

"…and today, we have a very special guest! Introducing, Miss Charmaine Carrington."

Char walks up to her designated seat the way Silvia taught her to. Out of her corner of her eye, she sees Silvia give a nod of approval. She nods at Gavril. "Thank you, Gavril. Hello, Illéa. As he said already, I am Charmaine Carrington. I'm a Five from Columbia, though now, I live here in the palace, in Angeles. The reason I'm living here, is that …"

"Is that …" Gavril prompts.

"I'm the twin sister of Princess Cassandra. This may shock you, Illéa. I understand that. Because that shocked me when I found out, too. I only knew this a few weeks ago. But please, do not call me Princess. I am not a Princess. I haven't been crowned yet, and I won't be crowned for a long time. My mother—adoptive mother—is the reason I am here today. If it weren't for her, I would've died."

Gavril looks a little bit shocked, but quickly recovers. "Thank you … Charmaine. Anything else you want to say?"

"Yes," Char says. "I'm not going to say your name, girl. But you know who you are. Dear my best friend since forever, I really miss you. A lot. I wish I could visit you."

"Thank you, Charmaine. Now, turning to His Majesty …"

* * *

><p>Commander Mitchell swivels around from his computer monitor. "Change of plans, Peter. Get Therese into the Palace in exactly one week and two days, and sixteen hours." He calls. The under his breath, "This girl is going <em>down<em>."

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews:<strong>

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Thanks! **

**N: You'll have to keep reading to see about that. Thanks!**

**PrincessIndia True … Thanks!**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Yea … True … I loved it when she punched Hans in the face. I was like YEA! But I loved Rapunzel's frying pan moves. Haha. Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Thanks! Here's the update!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Thanks! Actually, that part of Char was kinda based off me. Here's the update! And yea, I totally get where you're coming from. I'm always like, "Seriously, Canada?! You better to pulling a prank or trolling …" and they're not. Thanks!**

**Mrs. ApsenLeger: Thanks! Yea, I know, it's a hard decision. **

**And oh, guys, I heh, accidentally deleted the comparison list. Sorry guys … but here are the basics: **

**(Char): Honey blonde hair, blue eyes, stubborn and fiery temper 5'4". **

**(Cassie): Red hair, blue eyes, slightly stubborn, 5'5". **

**RQOTD: Favourite ice cream flavour?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**

**P.S. Maybe you can check out my Divergent one-shot? :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hai guys!**

**IMPORTANT: I will not be able to upload on Monday. Sorry guys!**

**Thank you everyone who faved / followed / reviewed! It makes my day!**

**Reviews:**

**going for the win: I like that flavour too! Haha, same. But we're not evil, right? Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: To be honest, I've actually never tasted that before. Maybe I should try it next time … Thanks!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Thanks! **

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: I think all of the main characters here on every fanfic has some part of the writer in them. (Does that make sense? Ugh. I dunno). Please don't die! Here's the update! Thanks!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: I can practically hear the desperation in your review. You'll see about that! Ooh, Strawberry Cheesecake. I love that flavour! Thanks!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 17•<p>

"Sir, are you sure I'm ready?" Therese asks timidly.

"Yes," he says impatiently. "Now go to the palace. Remember what you are supposed to do. If I find out that you aren't following my directions," he leans closer and smiles, "your family will bear the consequences. And you wouldn't want that to happen, hmm?"

She quickly shakes her head. "N-no."

"Just as I thought," Commander Mitchell says. "Go. Now. Do not fail me."

Therese quickly scurries into the black car waiting in the front of the base, a feeling of dread and guilt settling in her core. She has no choice, but to obey his orders.

* * *

><p>"I win!" Adrian triumphantly says as he captures Char's last piece.<p>

"Of course you do. You're the reigning champion of checkers." Cass says, walking over, book in hand.

"Hey, what book are you reading?" Char asks, jumping up.

"The Fault in Our Stars." Cass replies. "It's so sad! But it's the best book ever, really. I mean, who can't love that? Except that I'm pretty sure that disease called cancer doesn't exist anymore. You should read it sometime. And—" she is suddenly interrupted by the voice of the messenger, the same one who announced Char's arrival weeks ago.

"Ahem, sorry to interrupt, your Highnesses, but their Majesties requested that you welcome the guest that will be staying here for a few weeks." He says. "She is the niece of one of the Palace Doctors."

The three of them walk to the front hall to welcome this new girl.

* * *

><p>Therese stands confidently, although she is nervous on the inside. She bites her cheek and waits. What if she messes up? What if it backfires? How can her family survive?<p>

Three people approach her. She knows them all. The first one is the Crown Prince, Adrian. The second one is Princess Cassandra. The third one is—was—her classmate. Charmaine.

"Hello," Therese says, looking at them. "Thank you for welcoming me here. My name is Therese"

She sees a flash of recognition fly across Char's face, but she doesn't say anything. "Here are your maids," she says, waving three girls over. "Hope you have a nice stay! Dinner will be at 6:30. Bye!" The three of the leave.

Her maids usher her into a room near the stairs. "This is your room, Miss Therese," one of them says. "What can we do to help you?"

"Well, I want a bath. Maybe you can help me with that?"

Another one of them nods. "Yes, of course, Miss Therese."

* * *

><p>Casey sits at the monitors. A new voice suddenly speaks. "My name is Therese."<p>

He curses under his breath. He knows the Southern Rebels are behind this. He knows their plan. It's obvious. They sent this girl here to kill the Royal family. They are brutal and ruthless. Casey knows that they will not stop.

But they will. He will make sure they will.

* * *

><p>They all sit at the dining table. Therese looks around nervously at the table. <em>Are they able to figure out her real motive of her bring here?<em> She nervously wonders. She mentally shakes her head. _No, it can't,_ she tells herself. _Commander Mitchell made sure they wouldn't find out about her until it's too late._

"Well, Therese, tell us about yourself," King Maxon says, in an attempt to welcome her.

_Crap_. "Um, I'm Therese Tudor. I'm a Four. I'm a Farmer. And I'm from Sota …" she mumbles.

"Hello, Therese. Welcome to the Palace. How long will you be staying?"

She nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh … I don't know." She says. "I'll have to ask my uncle."

* * *

><p>Char can't sleep. She feels uneasy. Sure, her room is right beside her sister's, she's on the fourth floor, she's safe, but … there's something bugging her. Her parents have been making good progress. All the Eights have been absorbed into Sevens. There are no more people begging on the streets.<p>

She gets out of her bed and opens the door. The corridor's quiet. Char decides to walk around, to clear her head. Maybe that way, she can fall asleep. She walks down the stairs and treads lightly on the tile floor. She enters the front hall, where she first met her biological parents. She suddenly walks right into a wall.

"Oof," she mumbles. "I never knew there was a wall here."

A laugh erupts out of the wall. "Your Highness," the wall starts, but Char interrupts him.

"Char," she states firmly.

"_Char_, it's late, what are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to walk around. I thought that it would help me sleep better."

"I see. Well, Char, go back to your room. I'll escort you."

She grumbles under her breath, but obliges nonetheless. As they walk to her room, they make small talk. He introduces himself as Officer Liam Hendrickson. He was originally a Three, from Honduragua. His light accent says it all. He says he's nineteen years old, and loves soccer.

They finally arrive to her room. "Thanks, Officer Hendrickson."

He nods at her. "It was my pleasure."

Char nods and closes the door. She has to admit he's cute—and nice. _Stop it, Char_, she reminds herself. _You're not here to date, you're here to be a princess. Snap out of it!_

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Sis," Cass mumbles the next day, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.<p>

"'Morning," her sister replies. As they walk to the Women's room for their daily lessons, they review and prepare each other for the French test today. The girls arrive at the Women's Room minutes before their test. Their parents, the King and Queen, are in there. "Hello, girls," America greets them. "Good luck on your test!"

Char inwardly groans. "Thanks," she groans.

"Princess do not groan," Silvia calls from the other side of the room, "especially not in the presence of a guest."

"Sorry,"

"You're not the princess, Charmaine," Therese declares. "I am. You're just an imposter!"

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading!<strong>

**RQOTD: Give me the weirdest ship in the Selection Trilogy (it can be, for example, Aspen and Marlee). I might do a one-shot (and of course, I'll give you credit :P )**

**-Kiren**

**P.S. Please don't kill me! Or die! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Hai people!**

**I managed to squeeze in some time today to upload. I have a piano exam on Wednesday, so I will not be able to update. Thursday, maybe. I dunno. But I'll try my best to upload on Wednesday.**

**Thank you everyone who followed, favourited, and reviewed. **

**Here, HorseGalFangirl9's character, Doctor Amelia Delores, is featured in this chapter.**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 18•<p>

Commander Mitchell nods when he hears those words. Good. That girl is doing her job. He stands up from the monitors and walks to the girl's family's cell. The children shrink back in fear and huddle against the wall. Their parents immediately jump in front of their children to protect them.

Commander Mitchell laughs. "Relax," he says, smirking. "Your daughter is doing her job. You won't be whipped today. In fact, better thank your daughter the next time you see her. Here's some extra food." Someone brings a tray of food to him. He unlocks the cell door. "Don't even _think_ about running away," he snarls. "If you do, uh-oh," he says tauntingly, "no food for you. Wouldn't want that to happen, hmm?"

The family eagerly gathers around the food, and the Commander exits through the doors.

* * *

><p>Char rises from her seat. "Excuse me?" she challenges. "Who told you that?"<p>

Therese glowers at the girl. "How dare you speak to the princess that way!"

Cass starts to say something, but a look—more like a glare—from Char quickly shuts the girl up. "There must be a misunderstanding. Therese, I am the princess. I look like the King and Queen. As for you, I don't know."

Silvia starts to say something, but decides against it. She'll let this play out, but of course, she'll intervene if necessary.

"Then why are you the niece of some doctor here?"

Therese pales. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says.

Char scoffs. "Oh, please. We're not idiots, you know. You yourself said that your uncle is the palace doctor here. Then how are you the Princess? And besides, I see zero resemblance between you and Maxon and America. And I knew you from school. And you say you're from Sota? Liar."

Cass knows that the best way to settle this matter is to involve her parents. She sneaks out of the room. Both of the girls don't take notice, they're too caught up in their argument.

"Excuse me?!"

"Therese, you have to be kidding. I'm the Princess. If you are, where were you all these years, then? Kidnapped by the rebels?"

She tries not to wince at the fact that Char mentioned that fact. "Charmaine, shut _up_. You are not the Princess, I am. So back off!"

"Girls!" Maxon's voice booms. "Enough!"

"Your Majesty," Therese says, curtseying. "I'm sorry for the ruckus, sir, but I am simply explaining to this girl that I am the true princess, not her. Then for some reason, Charmaine started to yell at me."

"Nice try!" Char says. "Maxon, she's accusing me of taking her right and me being an imposter."

Maxon rubs his temples, agitated. "Girls, quiet down." Looking at Therese he says, "I'm sorry, miss, but Charmaine here is really my daughter. We didn't do a DNA test, but her family and ours already confirmed it. But, I do see how you might think that. You have blonde hair and brown eyes, and Char's height. But you aren't my daughter. I'm sorry. I don't know who told you that, but this is not the case. I'm sorry, Therese."

Therese's eyes start to fill with tears. She's not faking it. If she fails this, her family will get killed. She doesn't want that to happen. No. No. They can't. Not her sisters, not her brothers, not her parents. They can't die. They can't die. She suddenly realizes that she can use her tears to convince them. Her family has to live, they have to live, they have to! "You're lying!" She shouts. "You know I'm your daughter, you know I'm the Princess, not her, and you're defending her! You know the truth!" she blinks rapidly so her tears fall. "I'm the rightful Princess, not her. She's just an imposter."

Char groans. That's so fake. What a drama queen. Who'd believe her? This snivelling, whimpering, weakling of a girl, their _Princess_? Not a chance.

Maxon sighs. He still doesn't know how to handle crying women. "Alright," he finally says. "I know who my daughter is. It's Char. But if you want, we can have a DNA test to see, and then we'll see who the real Princess is. How's that?"

* * *

><p>Commander Mitchell is glad that he put a recording device in her earring. It's small, but handy.<p>

"I'm sorry, miss, but Charmaine here is really my daughter." A male voice, presumably Maxon, says. He curses under his breath. This girl is failing. Big time. If she fails, all will be lost. Her family will be killed. Oh, well. She asked for it. She fully knew the consequences.

Then what the King says next changes everything in their favour. "…But if you want, we can have a DNA test to see, and then we'll see who the real Princess is."

The King just took the bait.

* * *

><p>"Alright, please hold out your arm." Doctor Delores tells Char, Cass, and Therese.<p>

They comply. She draws a tint of blood from each girl and puts the blood in separate containers, each marked with their names in permanent ink, so it wouldn't get mixed up.

"Thank you. You may go now. Results will come in about five days, give or take." She says, and the girls leave.

* * *

><p>The next five days crawl by. Slowly. Char feels as if it will never end.<p>

Char can't admit it, but she has taking a liking to the guard at her door, Officer Hendrickson. He's sweet, kind, and kinda shy. But she has to remind herself that she is the Princess, who will probably be married off to some Prince in another country to strengthen alliances. She knows that her sister will be married to Prince Zachary. That's a pretty good match, since they both have so much in common. And they like each other a lot, too. At least they like each other. Imagine if they didn't but they were forced to get married! That'd be horrible.

She breaks out of her thoughts when a maid comes into the Women's room and informs the three girls that Doctor Abernathy, the doctor that specializes in DNA testing and genetics, says that their DNA testing has been finished.

"Please come down to the hospital to receive your results." She relays his message to Charmaine and Therese.

When they get there, he doesn't say anything, he just hands them their folders, after double-checking to see that he gave it to the correct girl.

Char takes her folder and sprints upstairs into her room. She closes the door and sees that her hands are shaking. _But I have no need to be nervous. Of course I'm the Princess … right?_ She tries convincing herself. Well, she'll have to find out sooner or later. She slowly opens her folder, takes a deep breath, and pulls out the paper.

* * *

><p><strong>Please don't kill me. Please don't!<strong>

**Reviews:**

**going for the win: Yea, Therese did. Maxon and Celeste … *shudders* yea, I agree. They wouldn't. Aspen and Kriss? True … but she was a Northern Rebel. Thanks!**

**SelectionLoverForever: Woohoo! New reviewer! Right …? Ha, as you know, I can never remember. KRISS AND STAVROS?! Oh my gosh … hahahaha. I'm pretty sure Stavros is middle-aged … I think? Lol, that's crazy. And not to mention creepy. Elise and Aspen—I can kinda see that … but I'm pretty sure they'd call off the marriage within two weeks. They're just too different. Elise has no backbone (according to Maxon. I think.) and Aspen is too independent and proud. Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Here's the update! *spits out drink* that's, like, never gonna happen. But the thought is just simply hilarious. Thanks!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Lucy and Maxon. I can kinda see that. Thanks!**

**Athenachild101 (2): Yay! New reviewer! Yea, Clarkson and America is terrifying and ridiculous. Kriss and Kota … Hmm. Kriss Singer. Kinda has a nice ring to it. Just to many S's. Haha. But that's totally crazy. And aw, you're welcome. Yea, I always hit post too soon. Thanks!**

**soccerlurve: Haha, nice name! Don't worry, I know who you are :) YAS I HAVE EEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK KIERA CASS IS WRITING MORE SELECTION STUFFS YAY! I actually screamed and texted my friend the news. Although I don't think she understood me because I was too excited and my typing was all over the place … *checks phone* yup, it's just gibberish. I think all of us are excited. Thanks!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Sorry, girl. That's the way things turned out. But it will get better (or not?) in future chapters. Kriss and Aspen. YEA ME TOO! I thought that it would end up as Kriss and Aspen, America and Maxon! And yup, I think Lucy and Aspen make a cute pair! Here's the update! Thanks!**

**PEETAMELLARLOVER123: Celeste and Aspen. Ugh. Yea, I agree. They'd definitely NOT go together. ****They're like chalk and cheese. Thanks!**

**Dianastyles11: Nuevo revisor! :) Sí, odio Teresa también. Y te estoy adivinando como de One Direction? Estoy usando Google Translate, por cierto. No sé español. Gracias!**

**selectionprincess59: Mary and Carter? I can actually kinda see that. Ish. Thanks!**

**RQOTD: I'm sorry but I really like Divergent so I have to ask this. What faction do you think you'd belong to? **

**For me, I think I'd be Divergent (a blessing in disguise—I don't wanna get killed!). Dauntless and Erudite. And maybe Abnegation. I do a lot of crazy stuff and would have no problem handling a gun and knife (and I'm kinda crazy) and I like to learn. And maybe Abnegation cuz I'm kinda (not really) selfless. When it comes to food, NOPE! **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hai people!**

**Phew, piano exam's done!**

**I will be on vacation starting Monday. Yea, before school starts. So, I will probably not be updating so much. **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 19•<p>

_Biological Family Report_

_Case no.: 84640_

_Name: Charmaine Elizabeth Carrington_

_Sample: Blood_

_Results: Negative. Based on the sample, she is not the biological daughter of King Maxon and Queen America. Based off the samples given by Her Highness Princess Cassandra Marie Schreave, Her Majesty Queen America Schreave, and His Majesty King Maxon Calix Schreave, they do not match. _

Charmaine drops her paper.

She is not the Princess.

Once again, she is not who she thinks she is. Her identity is ripped away from her. This time, it hurt much, much more, than the first time.

Can things get any worse?

* * *

><p>Therese smiles when she sees her results.<p>

_Biological Family Report_

_Case no.: 84641_

_Name: Therese Michelle Tudor_

_Sample: Blood_

_Results: Positive. Based on the sample, she is the biological daughter of King Maxon and Queen America. Based off the samples given by Her Highness Princess Cassandra Marie Schreave, Her Majesty Queen America Schreave, and His Majesty King Maxon Calix Schreave, they match perfectly. _

Her family is safe. For now.

* * *

><p>"Good job, Abernathy," Commander Mitchell tells the Doctor the next day.<p>

"No problem," he says. "Switching and tweaking the results weren't that hard."

"Next step; getting Therese to kill the Royal family, starting with Charmaine,"

"Consider it done,"

* * *

><p>Char slides down the wall, her hands wrinkling the piece of paper. Hot tears slide down her face.<p>

She is not the Princess. How can that be? More tears run down her face.

Has she been lied to all her life? _Why? Why me?_ She asks silently.

The King and Queen aren't her parents. Cassie isn't her sister. Adrian isn't her brother. Kamber isn't her mother. Sherri isn't her sister. Chase isn't her brother.

Then who is she? _Who do I belong to?_ She wonders. _Who is my real family?_

Then another thought hits her.

_What will happen to me now?_

* * *

><p>"I can't believe Charmaine faked it. I can't believe it." Cass says to Adrian, shocked. Charmaine really felt like her sister. They really felt like twins. But they aren't. She can't believe that she lied. She can't believe it.<p>

"Well, she _did_ claim that she was the Princess …" Spencer says.

"Correction: she just said that America was her biological mom," Maxon says.

"Same thing! But I don't feel any sisterly connection to Therese. Sure, it's only been a few days, but when I first met Charmaine, I already felt that."

"Maybe that's because she said that she was your sister, so you felt that connection because she told you that,"

"True. Oh, here comes Therese. We'll continue this discussion later,"

* * *

><p>Therese walks into the dining hall, where her family is seated at the dining table. "Hello, your Majesties,"<p>

"Please, call us Mom and Dad, Therese. After all, we're family," Queen America says, mustering up a genuine smile, but failing. None of them, not her husband, not her, not her children—minus Therese, really wanted to be bothered right now. They are all in too big of a shock.

"Okay. Hi, Mom and Dad,"

He smiles—or, more like grimaces. "That's better,"

"Hey, Therese," Cassie says. "Tell us a bit about yourself."

"Oh. Okay," Therese says uncertainly. "Well, I'm from Sota, as you know, and my uncle is the doctor here. Ya know, Doctor Abernathy?"

They nod.

"Well, my parents are," she searches for two random names, "Ann and Robert. And I have one sister, called, uh, Lisa, and a brother called, Sam. I don't know how—or why—I ended up with them, though. They never told me. Maybe one day, they will. They just told me that I am the Princess."

"And what should we do about the imposter?" Maxon asks.

"Dad, where's the collection of laws about impersonating the Princess? I want to be fair and just do what the rules say."

He gets up and soon returns with the heavy book. "Here it is," she says, running a finger down the page and stopping halfway. "It says that if one should impersonate a Royal, he or she should be thrown into prison. A life-long sentence."

They already know what's coming.

"Then that will be her punishment, then."

* * *

><p>Commander Vincent curses under his breath. "Oh, hell no are they going to get away with that," he spits out. "Casey," he barks into his earpiece, "get Caroline over here and have her find out when she will get thrown into prison, where, and who is going to being her. And how may are bringing her. I won't let her go into prison. We'll free her and have her join us. It'll be easier that way."<p>

"Roger that, sir."

* * *

><p>Charmaine punches the wall. This can't be happening, it can't, it can't, it <em>can't<em>.

Suddenly a knock comes on the door.

She timidly opens the door. She knows she is a mess, but it doesn't matter. No one will care anyways.

"Charmaine Elizabeth Carrington, come with us. The King and Queen order your presence." The guard—Officer Chamberlain—outside her door says in a serious tone.

* * *

><p><strong>Yea, not much of a cliffie. Oh, well.<strong>

**Reviews:**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Cool! Yea, I think all of us would be divergent, 'cuz we don't have damaged genes. Yea, erudite would probably be one of my options, too. Thanks!**

**soccerlurve: You're welcome :) and YAS I know right! Yay! Cool! ****Thanks! **

**Dianastyles11: bien ... *va a Google Translate* sí, su nombre de usuario me lo dice todo. Y es el chico de pelo castaño—Harry?—Su favorito? No sé mucho acerca de One Direction. Creo que Google Translate no es la fuente más fiable para traducir, pero va a trabajar. ****Espero. Gracias!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Sawwy … I didn't mean to … I KNOW the struggle is real! That's cuz yours are like that too! I'm not to only one who likes to torture people! Yea, I think everyone would be Divergent because we don't have damaged genes. Well, I think Abnegation and Amity are sister factions. Their virtues are very similar. Kinda. Thanks!**

**Fairy not princess: Yay! New reviewer! May and King Clarkson. Uh … yea. May is, like, 25 years younger. Maybe even more. *shudders* horrific, but it works. Thanks!**

**HorseGalFangirl9: I can't promise you that … I'm giving away NO spoilers! Thanks!**

**RQOTD: Okay, I'm going to Disneyland (in LA) for my vacation. Yea, cliché, I know. But I've only been to Disneyland two times (once in HK, and once in LA. HK stands for Hong Kong. Yes, I'm Asian. Do not be surprised.) So, tell me your favourite rides and I'll ride them!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hai people!**

**Uh oh, did I lose my readers? I hope not! **

**Sooooo sorry I haven't updated in a week! I am so sorry! It's just that I could barely squeeze in some time to write! I know, that sounds pathetic. But I would go to Disneyland (or sightseeing) and my folks wouldn't let me bring my computer. And I would be very tired at night and fall asleep immediately. But, it's currently boiling hot outside right now, so I'm hanging out inside with the air on full blast. **

**And the wifi is terrible so i couldn't upload earlier, either. For those of you who are wondering how I could review, the wifi worked on my iPhone, but the file was on my computer. (Actually, it's my Dad's. I left my precious laptop at home becasue I didn't want to lose it)**

**Happy reading! **

**P. S. I'm not sure how the formatting will turn out. Tell me in a review if it's readable.**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 20•<p>

Char gulps. She has no choice but to follow them. The guard is bigger, faster, and stronger than she is. She can't escape. "Uh, okay," she says.

She follows the guards into the front hall. King Maxon and Queen America are waiting for her.

"Sit," Maxon says, gesturing to the chair in front of them. She sits.

"Charmaine Carrington, you have been accused of impersonating the Princess. What do you say about that?"

"It's not true," Char says softly. "I know it isn't true, but no matter what I do, you won't believe me."

America sighs inaudibly. "Guards, throw her into the Tower," she says reluctantly. Turning to Charmaine, she says, "Your sentence is a life-long sentence in the Tower."

Char gasps. The Tower is a legendary building; only the worst and most vicious criminals end up there. And now, she will join them.

"And your immediate family—your mother, brothers, and sister—will be joining you in the Tower, and they will have a fifteen-year sentence. They're already there." Maxon adds.

"No," she says firmly.

"No? What do you mean by that?" Therese asks, walking over to the trio.

"Hello, Princess Therese," Charmaine says. "What I mean is that I will not let my family get punished for something I did. They are innocent. I am not. They didn't do anything. I will not let them stay in prison." She explains.

"In that case, you will get beheaded," Therese says.

"Then that will happen. My family will be set free, and I will be killed."

"So you agree?"

"Yes."

"And, oh, your mother, Kamber, will still get her fifteen years because she set this up in the first place." Therese adds.

"NO! How can my family live on their own?! Have them stay with you until Mom is freed!"

"Alright, then."

"Free them, now. Please."

* * *

><p>"Char, why? How could you do this, trading your life for ours?" Kamber cries, hugging her girl.<p>

"Because you guys don't deserve to get punished from something I did," she says quietly. Bending down to Sherri's height, she adds, "and I already made arrangements for you guys to stay at the palace when Mom pays her fifteen years in prison. The King and Queen will look after you four. I trust that you will behave, okay?"

Her sister and brothers nod. "And I'll look after them, too, of course," Jake adds.

She hugs them all one last time. "Good. At least I can die peacefully, knowing that my family will be taken care of,"

Kamber bursts into tears once more. "Charmaine, what did I do to deserve such a selfless daughter like you? Be strong, and I love you. We all do."

The guard taps his watch impatiently. Char has to go soon. "Listen, guys, I have to go soon. Sherri, Chase, Kurt—study hard, work hard, and do your best in school, 'kay? Jake, be the best role model you can be. Mom, stay strong for them. For me. You are the glue that holds us together. You make us whole. Without you, we are nothing. Remember that, okay? And guys, don't forget me. I love you. So, so much. And …" Charmaine stops, trying to compose herself before continuing. "Be good, guys." Tears run down each of her family members' faces. "I love you all. And I-I guess this is it. Good bye, guys. My last thoughts will be of you. And tell Cel to never forget me and that I love her and she was the best friend I ever had. And keep fighting, guys. Fight to destroy the Castes. And one day, I know, I know, the Castes will be demolished and we will all be free. Just keep holding on to that hope and fight." Char wipes her eyes with the back of her hand just as the guards take hold of her arms and prepare to lead her away.

But she waves them off. She hugs each of them and doesn't let go of her mother for a long time. The guards are starting to get impatient.

They start to drag her away. "And I love you all!" she calls one last time before the door slams shut.

* * *

><p>Commander Vincent pounds the table in frustration. "Those damned Southerns," he mutters. "Stupid barbarians."<p>

He looks at his spreadsheet for his next attack. "Change of plans," he calls to Casey. "We'll show up at the beheading—which will probably be shown live—and free her mother and get Charmaine over here. Get Caroline over here, though. She might know something."

* * *

><p>The next day, Char is roughly pulled out of the Tower.<p>

The cameras are there, filming her and her last words. "Any last words before your death?" the guard asks—or rather, snarls. Like a beast, she mentally adds.

"Yes, actually." Char replies calmly. Stepping up to Princess Therese, she says quietly, but loud enough for the cameras to record, "You and I both know the truth. I'm sure others suspect the truth. But you are not willing to admit the truth. But we both know who's lying, and it isn't me. But I am going to die for something you did." Smirking, she adds loudly, "and I think I should add that you're a terrible liar,"

Therese turns red. Probably with a mixture of rage and embarrassment. "Y-y-you filthy pig," she spits out.

"Ah, ah, ah," Charmaine taunts, waving a mocking finger at her. "Princesses don't say those words,"

The girl turns even redder, if that was possible.

"What are you going to do? I'm already going to die. And if my memory serves me correctly, killing one by torture isn't allowed, according to the rule book. Remember, I studied that too." Char smirks, acting first and thinking second.

"Okay, that's enough," the guard says and forces her to kneel on the wooden block for her beheading.

* * *

><p>"Damn it, damn it, damn it," Casey says. All the roads leading to the beheading are blocked. Frustrated, he asks a fellow Caste Rebel to do the driving. He takes a dozen of his men and run to the site. Covering the distance on foot will be easier, at this rate. Once they get to the entrance, he and his men split up.<p>

Is he too late?

* * *

><p>Charmaine ties the blindfold around her eyes. She hears the slice of the blow the axe makes for the practice. And soon, she hears the whiz of the axe coming down.<p>

This is it.

She is going to die.

She accepts it.

She closes her eyes.

And waits for death to come.

* * *

><p><strong>As said before, soooooo sorry I haven't updated for a week! I swear, it's impossible to find wifi in around Disneyland. ANd it's so hot! I mean, 36 degrees Celsius! WHAT THE HECK?! I think I melted a few inches ... I mean it. I'm dying.<strong>

**And for all you people who read it in Fahrenheit, sawwy. I can't convert it. (although my nerdy cousin told my dad a formula about converting ...)**

**Reviews!**

**Theoneforever: Sorry! What's gotta happen has to happen! Thanks!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Thanks!**

**Dianastyles11: Mi amigo le gusta Harry también. Sí, creo que son retrasados . Sólo un poco. Quiero algo malo fuera a suceder a Teresa también. Tendremos que ver qué. :) ¿Cómo puedo sobrevivir sin wifi? No puedo! Así que, me muero de aburrimiento. Pero, por suerte, la escritura ayuda. Gracias!**

**Fairy not princess: Well, we'll have to see about that. :) Thanks!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Awe! I should've brought you along! I believe that every kid should go at least once in their childhood. Yea, Splash Mountain rocked! Thanks!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Yes you are cruel. :P Well, not much, compared to other ones. (Like this one!). Good job on surivivng this long. This is not ASAP though, but I hope you still liked it! I think everyone loves Splash Mountain (Urg I keep mis-spelling it for some reason) because there's water involved. If you like Splash Mountain, I recommend you try Sea World's Journey to Atlantis. It's awesome and I think better than Splash Mountain. Thanks!**

**Annika: Yay! New reviewer! Yea, I like to torture my readers. In case you haven't noticed. :P *clears throat and laughs an awkward laugh*. Uh ... I kinda suck writing romance. Scratch that, I really suck. I'll give it a shot, but it doesn't mean I'll publish it if I don't deem it perfect. SPLASH MOUNTAIN IS AWESOMESAUCE! And haha, I have a friend who has to same name as you. So my first reaction was, "Annika?!" But I realized that my friend isn't you because she doesn't read the Selection series. Thanks! **

**RQOTD: One random thing about you. Fetishes, book obsessions, whatever. I just want to be able to connect with my readers more. BUT DON'T MAKE IT CREEPY. I figured you wouldn't, but I decided to throw it in there for the heck of it.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello, all my wonderful readers!**

**I feel sooooo awful. I know I haven't updated in a week! Now that school is back in session, it's killing me already! If school had one "write fanfiction" block, that would be my dream come true. Unfortunately, that's not possible. Oh, well, I can always work on it at lunch! But with homework and all, I'll try my best to update once a week. **

**Thanks everyone who faved, followed, or reviewed!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 21•<p>

They aren't too late. Casey arrives at the scene when the death blow is coming down. Wasting no time, he climbs on top of a nearby car and aims.

He fires.

And hits his mark.

The axe flies out of his hand and buries itself into the nearby pole.

Someone screams. "Rebels!" she yells, terrified.

That is their signal. They attack. They don't kill, but they injure if necessary. They don't need to. The people are already scattering in different directions. The camera crew and running. The citizens are running. It is total mayhem. But chaos is what they need to free Char and her mother. Casey and Terri quickly climb onto the platform and knock out the guards there. They free the girl and bring her to their car. Casey turns on the engine and they zoom off.

Casey speeds off into the countryside. Terri radios her fellow rebels. "Terri here, how's it back there?" she barks into the microphone.

"She's been freed," the radio crackles.

"Good, any loses?"

"No,"

"Okay, see you there,"

Char sits between them, stunned. It all happened so fast.

She waited for the blade to come down, but it never did. A single gunshot was fired and the axe flew off somewhere. Then, people were suddenly screaming and running off because someone yelled 'rebels'. Suddenly two of them walked up to her and … _freed her_. They are the ones who saved her life.

Then they brought her to the car and that's where she ended up.

_What?_

Why would they want to save her?

* * *

><p>Commander Mitchell screams in frustration and tears at his hair. It failed! Worse, the girl's still alive and the mother is freed.<p>

Therese trembles before him. "Please, sir, forgive me. I tried everything I could to kill her. I didn't know the Caste Rebels found out about this. Please sir, please, don't kill my family or me. I _will_ succeed. I will make sure she gets killed. Please, sir, give me one more chance." She is on her knees begging.

He glares at her. "You stupid girl! You made her execution public. Of course they'd find out! And why didn't you bring more Southern Rebels? Only half a dozen?! Are you insane?!"

"Sir—"

"I never knew you were so stupid!" his tone changes. It's scary, how he can change from furious to eerily calm or even remotely friendly in just a matter of seconds. "But, being the _kind and forgiving_ leader that I am, I will give you one last chance. Do not fail me. If you do, you know the consequences." He smiles at her.

"Thank you, sir," Therese says, and she means it.

* * *

><p>The female rebel sitting beside Char turns and says apologetically, "I'm sorry, Charmaine. But the location and entrance of our Caste Rebel base has to be completely concealed and unknown to other citizens who are not a part of our group."<p>

Char thinks it's a bit suspicious. Why would she apologise? She has a feeling that the lady is hiding something. "Alright…? And by the way, please call me Char,"

"I'm so sorry, Char," she says again. Suddenly, pain erupts from her temple and everything goes black.

* * *

><p>She wakes up again, her head pounding. The lady from the car ride stands in front of her, looking a bit guilty. "Where am I?" she asks groggily.<p>

"You're at the Caste Rebel Base." She replies. "My name is Bernice."

"Bernice, why am I here?"

She presses her lips into a tight line. "I can't say about that," she says finally. "But if you want some answers follow me." She turns and walks down a corridor. Char hesitates for a moment, but follows nonetheless.

* * *

><p>Kamber clutches the strip of paper she was given. <em>House 568, Angeles<em>. She clearly remembers the man's words. "We're here to free you. Go to this address immediately. Make sure you are not followed, or else all is lost."

She walks to the part of the province where Houses 500 to 599 are. Luckily, it's not far. She realizes that the numbers on her right-hand side are the even numbers, so she reads those instead. _562, 564, 566, 568_. House 568 is a pretty, one-story dull blue house. _What if this is all a trap?_ Mustering every ounce of courage, she gathers her torn skirts, walks up the steps, and takes a deep breath. She checks the number, just to make sure it is the right house. She hopes that this isn't a trap. Kamber Carrington raises her hand to knock on the door.

* * *

><p>Maxon and America look frantically for Therese. She disappeared when the Caste Rebels interrupted the beheading. Strangely, though, none of the other Royals were hurt. And Therese was the closest to the guards. How could they have not protected her? "Guards!" Maxon barks. "Have you seen Princess Therese?"<p>

No one did.

"How did she disappear?!" America asks her husband.

"I don't know, Mer." He finally says. "I don't know."

"Your Majesty," Officer Hendrickson says, coming forward. "I saw the Southern Rebels come and shot some of them. And if my eyes did not deceive me, she willingly went with one of them,"

"What?!" Maxon exclaims, shocked. "I think your eyes _did_ deceive you, Officer. She would do no such thing."

At that moment, Therese enters the front hall. "Mom! Dad!" she cries.

"Are you okay, darling?" America asks.

"N-no," she answers. "The Southern Rebels got me and they t-t-tortured me. I was so scared, Mom. So, so scared. And it was so cold," she let out a shaky breath. "So, so, cold." She repeated.

"There, there," America says comfortingly. "Shh, you're safe now. You're back with your family. It's alright, darling."

* * *

><p>They stop at a door labelled ACRHQ. "I'm guessing it stands for 'Angeles Caste Rebels Headquarters'?" Char asks—more like states.<p>

Bernice looks at her. "I'm not going to tell you where we are," she says, "but I will tell you this: Yes, aisde from the Province name, you got everything else correct." She knocks three times and, without waiting for an answer, pushes the door open and walks in.

A man sits at the solitary desk in the drafty room. "Hello, Charmaine," he says. "I am Commander Vincent. There is no need to conceal who I am, because many citizens already know me. You must be wondering why you are here,"

Char nods.

"We have monitored your every move at the Palace. We all agree that you are the most suitable Royal to be ruler over Illéa. You have determination, you are strong, and you know how to fight. Most importantly, you understand how important it is to dissolve the Castes. We want you to join us, and fight side-by-side with us." His words hang in the air. It is clear what he wants.

He wants Char to become a Caste Rebel.

"Sir, I'm not a Royal anymore. Therese is," Char whispers, almost inaudibly.

Commander Vincent snorts. "That old douchepants is just a liar. No one can deny that you have an uncanny similarity to Princess Cassandra and their Majesties. That girl, Therese?" He laughs. "Not a chance. If he wants to try to convince people of that girl's true place, then he should find someone who looks more Caucasian, not Hispanic. So, Charmaine, what do you say?" He leans closer. "I will give you time to think over your answer. Once you have chosen that, there is no turning back." He sits back into this worn, but comfortable-looking chair. "Remember, Charmaine, belief before blood."

_Belief before blood. Belief before blood. _These words ring over and over in her head. Finally, she has come to a decision. She nods. "Sir, I will join you," she says at last.

He stands up solemnly and shakes her hand. "Welcome to the Caste Rebels."

**So ... Our little buddy here joined the Caste Rebels. Did any of you see that coming?**

**Reviews:**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: You dance?! Awesome! A pointe has something to do with toe shoes, right? I don't know much about dancing. I had to take dancing classes for P.E., and I think I failed. But the guys were worse than me though XD. And yay! You'll love it. Thanks!**

**Mrs. AspenLeger: Thanks! Here's the update! And dude, NO NEED TO SHOUT! :P**

**HorsegalFangirl9: Nooooooooo … don't die! Pwease! Haha, I know how you feel. Someone thought I was younger than I really am, so I was like, seriously? AND GUESS WHAT?! THAT GUY WAS MY UNCLE! My shoes size is 7 … or 8, depending. And who doesn't love unicorns?**

**Fairy not Princess: Wow! I always liked those trapeze flyers (even though I suck at spelling their profession haha). And wow, I'd love to see you compete one day in the Olympics or something! WHO CARES WE AREN'T THE SAME NATIONALITY?! Thanks!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Shatter Me? Okay, I'll read it! Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Thanks!**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Haha. Thanks! Hope this chapter didn't kill you!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Miranda Sings … Oh, her. The Youtuber? I don't really know her but I've heard of her before (thanks to iiSuperwomanii :D). Yea, I think this is starting to be a never-ending competition of kill-the-other-person-with-cliffhangers. Who doesn't love reading? Well, actually, I do know some people. I have no clue how they can live. Yea, I totally get what you mean. I sometimes scrap my fanfics and re-write them five times. That was my record. Thanks! And pwease don't be mad. **

**RQOTD: Based on my writing, how old do you think I am? I mean, story-wise. I will tell you how old I am in the next update. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**

**P.S. In the next chapter, there might be a little kiss … *wink wink***

**P.P.S. Did any of you catch how Divergent's _faction before blood_ quote was similar to _belief before blood_? Oh, and blood equals the Carrington family's blood, how she will be leaving them.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Aiya, school is killing me!**

**Hi my wonderful readers! Here's the update! Ugh, I HATE uploading so infrequently, but I am a perfectionist and straight-A student, which means I have high standards, and … UGH! No time for fanfiction-ing! :(**

**If you want to know how old I am, it's on the bottom of the chapter!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 22•<p>

"So, in order for you to be able to fight and protect yourself during the attacks, you will be spending most of your time here, in the Training Room, for the next few weeks." Commander Vincent says as he leads the new addition down the hall.

"For how long?"

"Training?" he asks. "It is different for everyone. Some; it is easy. They finish it with flying colours. For others; it is a bit of a struggle. But either way, once we're through with you, you'll be different." He opens the door to the Training Room and gently pushes her in. "Terri will be your instructor. Dinner is at 7 o' clock sharp. Don't be late," he warns, then walks down the hall.

"Hello," a new voice says from behind her. She holds out her hand. "I'm Terri, and I'll be training you from now on,"

"Char," she returns.

A corner of Terri's mouth lifts up, forming a lopsided smile. "Oh, we know," the woman says. "Almost half the base here has heard of you by now. It's not every day a Royal joins us, you know." It disappears quickly and the woman turns serious. She bends over, hands resting on her knees. "Char, just because you are a Royal won't mean anything to us. You are one of us now. Titles, awards, Caste—they are meaningless now. We are all equal here. I will not give you any special treatment just because of who you are. I will train you as hard as the other Rebels here. You hear me?"

Char nods.

"Good," Terri says. "Now, drop down and do twenty push-ups, then ten laps around the Base—it's bigger than you think, and fifty sit-ups. This is just a warm-up. After, you will learn to shoot and fight."

* * *

><p>Char collapses on her cot. Her muscles ache. Never in her life had she receive such vigorous training. A groan escapes her lips. A chuckle is heard from her doorway. "You're sore all over, huh?" A familiar voice says. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. All of us felt that way on out first day. It's normal."<p>

She swallows. "Liam?" she asks, momentarily forgetting her pain. "What are you doing here?"

He smirks. "Being a Caste Rebel. What do you think, Char?"

She blushes at the idiocy of her question. "I never knew you were a Caste Rebel," she says quietly.

"Many people support us," he replies. "More than you could ever imagine. My father was a Northern Rebel, until they sided with the Ones. They lost many supporters when the Ones didn't uphold their end of the promise. In fact, it was their own son who started the Caste Rebels." He's quiet for a moment, and looks down at his hands. "Char, being a Caste Rebel isn't easy. No matter how good you are at defending yourself, there is a 90% chance that you will die, sooner or later. King Maxon always orders the guards to bring them in for questioning, and then he will eventually kill them." Liam lifts his head back up and looks her in the eye. "Stay safe, Char," he says, and disappears into the shadows.

* * *

><p>Just when her hand is about to knock, a spark catches on her piece of paper. She gasps and lets go of it. But it falls into the puddle underneath the tap on the side of the house, and the flames burn out. She hurries over to the puddle and stares at the paper in wonder. Another address appears on there. <em>House 946, Angeles<em>.

_Why would they direct me to another house? _Kamber wonders. The woman decides to trust her instincts. She sprints off the property, and is out of sight.

And not a moment too soon, either.

Because as soon as she leaves the property, some people run onto the lawn. They are armed and have the Palace insignia stamped onto their uniforms. Guards … they are guards. Palace guards. Looking for her.

She runs. Her legs burn and her body aches, but she keeps running. To, what she hopes, is safety. Kamber finally arrives at House 946. She knocks on the door. The door opens and suddenly, everything goes black.

* * *

><p>The guards return. "No sign of her, your Majesty," the guard at the front says, dropping onto his knees.<p>

King Maxon looks grim. "Keep looking," he tells him. "She has to return to the prison to pay her sentence."

He nods. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Upstairs, Queen America stops playing the violin and sets it back into the case. She still misses Char. Her temper, her stubbornness. Every bit like her. She suddenly remembers she left her extra strings in Therese's room, when she patiently taught the girl how to play. It was hopeless. The girl has no musical talent. She knocks softly on her daughter's door, and hearing no answer, pushes the door open. The room is empty.

America looks around the room. On the dresser is a hair brush and a few bottles of perfume. Her box of strings are in the corner, where she left them last night. She picks them up easily and starts to leave. But something catches her eye. She gently puts down the box and walks over to the dresser, where, squeezed between the back of the dresser and a wall, is a bottle. She plucks it out of its hiding spot and reads the label. It's a bottle of hair dye. She carefully twists off the cap and peers inside. The dye is red. The same hair colour as America's. She quickly puts the cap back on and wedges it in the same place where she found it. In her haste, she knocks down the plastic bottles sitting on the floor next to her. Thankfully, they don't break.

Queen America is so intent on placing the bottle back where she found it, she doesn't hear the door opening. Suddenly, a voice fills the room. "Mom?"

* * *

><p>Weeks pass. Char can finally shoot an arrow and hit bulls' eye seventy metres away, survive for a week in the forest, know the easiest (and blood-free) way to kill someone. She knows how to protect herself and load ammo into her gun in a second. She can fight with swords and turn almost anything into a weapon. She is wonderful with knife-throwing. Commander Vincent and the whole Rebel Base are proud of her.<p>

"You know," Liam says one evening as they walk down the halls leading to her room, "I always admired you—your temper, stubbornness, strength, determination. I have tried but I have failed. We were merely friends, or maybe even acquaintances before, but everything has changed. Charmaine, I really like you." He blurts out. "Will you please be my girlfriend? I know that, with us being Caste Rebels, it will be different. But will not lessen my affection for you."

Char stares at him for a second. "You're not kidding, are you?" she breathes. He shakes his head no. She then proceeds to throw her arms around him. She whispers a single word. "Yes." She plants a light kiss on his cheek. "You have no idea how long I wanted to do that, Liam," she says, and walks down the hallway, leaving a stunned Liam rooted to his spot.

The feel of her lips linger on his cheek. This is surreal. The girl whom he has liked since forever, _likes him back_. But a dark reminder still lingers in the back of his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>Did any of you catch the name of a song by Taylor swift in there? Or a part of a Fault in Our stars Quote? If you found it, tell me in the review! First one to tell me gets a shoutout! Hint: They are both found in the same paragraph.<strong>

**And if you're wondering, my friend helped me with the kiss scene. I wrote it out, and asked her if it was sweet enough. Yea, I still suck at writing love scenes (even though this was just a kiss). **

**Reviews:**

**Fairy not princess: Yea, I KNOW RIGHT?! School's, like, ruining me! Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: SORRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Lol see how I imitated you? And well, without an antagonist, there would ****_be_**** no story! Thanks! Here's the update!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Haha. Yea, that's a WONDERFUL idea. ;P Uh … 15? Interesting guess… Yea, the rebels are pissin' me off too. Thanks! Here's the update!**

**Dianatyles11: Haha su opinión me hizo reír. Sí, a veces, cuando leo los libros, yo estoy como, "Tengo muchas ganas de matar a este personaje !" Entonces recuerdo, espera ... es sólo un personaje de ficción. Gracias!**

**Mrs. AspenLeger: Lol it's okay. Hmm … 14 – 17? Interesting … Thanks!**

**don't even: Yay! New reviewer! 13? Good guess … Thanks!**

**herondaleslife: Hurrah! New reviewer! You're a Shadowhunter fan, right? 13 or 14? Interesting guess. Thanks!**

**Answer to my RQOTD (I will probably start doing these …): I'm thirteen. Almost fourteen. But not quite. I admit it, I found it quite hilarious when a reviewer thought I was seventeen. So, guest reviewer don't even is the winner, because he / she guessed correctly! Yay!**

**RQOTD: What is your pet peeve? **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey people!**

**School. Is. Killing. Me. We had some creative writing time in English class today, and I brought my laptop, so naturally, I asked my teacher if I could write my fanfiction. I mean, it counts as creative writing, right? And he said … no :( WHY?! SCHOOL IS MURDERING MY HOBBY AND THE MINUTE I HAVE SOME TIME (in an appropriate class, where we're learning writing and short stories and all that, no less), I CAN'T! Ugh.**

**_And_**** … ****as much as I don't want to admit it … I kinda, uh, have boy problems? UGH! It's driving me insane, along with the writer's block, and I might need a therapist to cure my insanity.**

***Nervously laughs*. Uhrm, before this gets any worse … Shoutout to AcademicGirl! I was suffering from writer's block (UGH! I hate it!)—actually I still am struggling with it—and she helped me. If it weren't for her, I would've been stuck deeper than I am right now. **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 23•<p>

"Everyone, please report to the Large Meeting Room immediately," Commander Vincent's voice crackles over the Rebel Base. Charmaine sets down the gun she is holding on the floor and runs, along with hundreds of others, to there. It is huge, with a domed ceiling and beams. Commander Vincent, Terri, Casey, and a few other Rebels Char doesn't recognize stand on the podium in front of the crowd. "Hello, my fellow Rebels," Commander says. "Tomorrow, we'll be attacking the Palace. All of us. Get dressed. It'll be cold in Angeles."

Char stifles a gasp. Attacking her own family. Tomorrow. How would her adoptive mother react? Her brother? Would they shun her for her beliefs? Kill her? As if on cue, warm hand envelops hers and squeezes it, reassuringly. She looks up and sees Liam's blue eyes. She remembers that she knew this was going to happen. She is a Caste Rebel now. Rebels try to change the world around them, even if it means turning against your own kin. She nods determinedly. No one, not even her family—biological or adoptive—can stop her now, can stop her from reaching her goal.

* * *

><p>Kamber feels like she is underwater. Everything is hazy, muddled. She can make out sounds, touch, but she doesn't know what is going on. A jumble of thoughts, feelings, smells float in her mind. This is her world. But she feels like she is leaving it. She rises, surfaces, breaks free from the murky water. She can hear some people walking around downstairs. <em>Open your eyes<em>, an internal voice says. _Open them_.

Reluctantly, she opens her eyes. It feels heavy, like her eyelids are resisting to move. When it finally snaps open, she is in complete darkness. She tentatively reaches her arm out, for a lamp, a box of matches—anything. But there is none. She tears the blanket off her body and let her feet dangle over the side of the bed. The tile floor is cold. She slowly shuffles her way to the door. Kamber throws the door open and rushes out. _Where am I? What is this place? How did I get here?_ She asks herself, frantic. No, no, no. She could _not_ be captured again. A hand suddenly grasps the woman's arm. Startled, she slips on the slick floor. The other hand catches her. "Careful, Kamber," a female voice says. A familiar voice. One she hasn't heard in ages.

"Ivy?"

* * *

><p>Queen America turns around. "Hello, Cassie," she says, trying to hide her surprise. "How are you doing?"<p>

"Good," her daughter replies. "Looking for something?"

"Yes, I left my box of spare violin strings here yesterday, I'm just getting the box out of her room," America says, as nonchalantly as possible. She picks up the box and rests it on her hip. "How about you, Cass?"

"I'm just decided to walk around and I saw Therese's door wasn't fully closed. I went to close it and saw you." America breathes an inaudible sigh of relief when she hears that Cass didn't see what she was doing earlier. She starts to walk to the door. "Well, I have to go now, Cass. See you at dinner!" America kisses her daughter's forehead and leaves.

* * *

><p>Char straps on her knives, gun and ammo onto her uniform. Hesitating, she starts to put her knives back into their designated spot. She doesn't want to hurt anybody, especially those who have been so welcoming and kind to her back when she was at the palace. And changes her mind. She straps them onto her uniform once more. This is what Caste Rebels do. Hurt them, but don't kill them. Let the King and Queen—her <em>parents, <em>she quietly reminds herself—know they mean business and want the Castes destroyed. She slips a small butter knife into her combat boots and another in the pocket behind the holster of her gun. A sharp whistle pierces the air. "Alright, everybody!" Commander Vincent yells. "It's time to go!" Char grabs another gun, just in case. She hoists it onto her back, next to her shotgun. The Caste Rebel form a dozen different lines, at each of the lines, at the front, are second-in-command Rebels. Char's leader is Casey. He starts to head west.

After an hour of jogging / running, he makes a sharp turn left and leads his group to a secluded part of the forest. He finally stops and looks at his group. "Collect, catch, and hunt for as much food as you can," he instructs them. "For those of you who haven't been a part of a raid, we split into about twenty-five different groups and travel to the Palace that way. It's easier for us to go unnoticed and it's harder for the Southern Rebels and Palace Guards to catch us." Char dives into the forest. Blueberries, blackberries, wild mushroom, wild carrots. She brings them back and sees that Liam, who is in her group, caught a deer and is now roasting it over the fire.

"Columbian forests are filled with edible foods," a rebel says, taking a bite of the meat. "That's one of the reasons why we're here, in Columbia. Back at our Base, the forests aren't as abundant."

After their meal, the group continues to trek through the forest.

* * *

><p>Therese reads over her notes on Princess Etiquette. Silvia clears her throat. "Princess Therese," she begins, "It's time for your test. Please put away your notes."<p>

She nods, reluctantly handing the woman her package of notes and taking out her writing instruments. Silvia goes to the corner of the Women's Room and pulls out the test from a drawer, tucked snugly between two walls. She walks back over and sets the bundle of paper and ink in front of the girl. "Good luck," Silvia says, and sits in the chair near the entrance of the room. Therese picks up her pencil and pounces on her test. The test is difficult, that's for sure, but Therese has studied enough to know most of them. Question and after flings itself at her, and she answers them.

After a while, her hand starts to cramp up. She places the pencil on her table and scrunches up her hand, and releases in, relaxing it. She does this over and over again. Therese looks out the window. Birds are chirping, light raindrops are quietly tapping on the window. The sun is out, and is shaded by clouds. It's a strange mix, but somehow comforting. She sneaks a look at Silvia. Her teacher is reading a book called _The Giver_. She picks up her pencil again and starts writing.

But she is interrupted by the unexpected wail of the siren.

* * *

><p>Casey stops about a kilometre away from the Palace. He motions for them to split up, then he breaks into a run. The other rebels follow him silently. No one could hear them. They break onto palace grounds and some climb onto balconies, others smash down doors. Char, Liam, a girl a few years older called Rose shimmy up a nearby pole and slip into the palace. The three of the split up when they come into an intersection. Grabbing her gun, she smashes windows, vases, and ceramic designs. Char feels a pang of sadness when she sees what damage she'd done. She tries to ignore it. But it was her home, even if it was for a little while, and she felt like she belonged here. But not anymore. Her family is now with the Caste Rebels. Char suddenly hears pounding footsteps behind her. Thinking they belong to her fellow Rebels, she continues on. Suddenly, a hand grabs her and ties it behind her back. Char screams. A large, meaty hand clamps over her mouth. The girl promptly chomps on it. He swears and slaps her. Char only responds by kicking the place where the sun doesn't shine. He lets loose a string of colourful language and quickly ties a piece of cloth over her mouth. He roughly spins her around, Char trying to kick him with avail, and shoves her against a wall. A few palace guards pin her there. As her captor ties her feet together, she sees movement. Blue eyes peer around the corner.<p>

Liam. He is wearing the palace guard uniform and insignia. Char gasps, but tries to hold it back. He is still a guard at the palace. He was just pretending to be a Caste Rebel. A sound still escapes from her mouth. Liam looks like a deer caught in the headlights. He pales, and looks at the ground, avoiding eye contact with her. "I'm sorry."

* * *

><p><strong>Um … I'm sorry?<strong>

**I might not be able to update next week, because, as you know, I am getting slayed by writer's block. But I am a bit guilty too, because I'm currently reading—scratch that, ****_devouring_****—Percy Jackson #1. Yea, I know, you might be thinking, "You should've read it earlier!" I know. BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH! If you haven't read it yet, go read it! It's so interesting, and I love Greek myths :)**

**Sorry, I'm too tired to respond to reviews today. But keep in mind, I loved every single one!**

**Also, just saying, SelectedDivergentShadowhunter got the little quote and title from last chapter! It's "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift and "But it will not lessen my affection for you" from Fault in Our Stars. **

**Answer to my RQOTD (chapter 22): When people can't differentiate between "you're" and "your"; and "they're", "there", and "their"! It's so frustrating! Also, I have sensitive ears (but I'm not perfect pitch *ahem*) so when people scream really loud and sing off tune and all that it hurts my ears. **

**RQOTD: Other than the Selection Series, what's your favourite book?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	24. Chapter 24

**I feel like such a horrible person. 15 days! I haven't updated in 15 days! WHAT?!**

**Hiya, peoples!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 24•<p>

Kamber looks at the young woman standing in front of her. Sparkling green eyes, shiny black hair. Tall and slim. She could be looking at a younger version of herself.

It has been years since her saw her little sister. She stares at her, agape. Kamber wraps her arms around the slim figure in front of her and squeezes her tight. "Oh, Ivy," she murmurs. "I've missed you so much! _Where_ have you been all these years?"

Ivy returns the hug. "In here. I've missed you too, Kam,"

The questions come out in a torrent. "Ivy, where am I? Where is, well, _here_? Why am I here? What is this place? What are _you_ doing here? What just happened? What day is it? Is Char okay? How about Jake, Chase, Kurt, and Sherri?"

"Woah, slow down, slow down," a new voice says. Kamber turns around. A young girl, around Char's age, stands there. "Kamber, you have been out for almost a _month_," she says.

"A month?!" Kamber repeats, horrified.

The girl nods, confirming it. "You blacked out when you reached our doorstep. We have been feeding you through a tube but you should still eat something. Come down to the kitchen with us. We'll talk there."

* * *

><p>Therese and Silvia run to the Safe Room. Gunshots ring through the palace. Screams are heard, and cut off. Broken glass cover the bottom floor like glittering diamonds. Therese pushes open the door and the two of them hurry down the staircase, only illuminated by the dim lights. When they got to the bottom, America breathes a visible sigh of relief when she sees Therese in one piece. She wraps her arms around the girl. "So glad you're safe," America says. "When you didn't show up right away I started to worry." America unwraps her arms from Therese and walks back to Maxon.<p>

"When will the attack end?" Therese questions.

"I don't know, Therese, I don't know." America replies.

* * *

><p>The guards push her into a cell. Char does not put up a fight. All the fight has gone out of her. She sags against the back of the cell. She can't believe it. Liam betrayed her. Liam, whom she loves. Or loved, she can't decide. He was the one who brought the guards to capture her. In a way, Liam captured her. Was this all a trap? Did he even truly ever love her? Or was it all an act? Tears gather in her eyes; Charmaine does not hold them back. She is back to square one. Stuck in a cell. Going to be punished for a crime she didn't commit. Living with Castes that aren't going to be dissolved. She shrinks in a ball and hugs her knees. She feels weak, helpless. The guards took all her weapons, even the one hidden in her boot.<p>

She can't get out. She hopes someone will bust her out of there, but even she knows that she's grasping at straws.

* * *

><p>Kamber sits between her sister and the girl. "So, I guess, we should start?" the girl states. Kamber nods, taking a bite of the salad.<p>

"Okay, well, you're in a Caste Rebel Compound. But this one is different from the Base. It's like, say, a safe house. No one who isn't a Caste Rebel knows about this house. There is a Compound for every province. We transported you to another Compound after you blacked out, so you aren't in Angeles anymore."

"You're a _Caste Rebel?!_" Kamber exclaims, looking at Ivy. She nods. "You could get seriously injured, Ivy!" she protests.

"Kam, all of us have been trained to protect ourselves," Ivy says calmly. "Besides, I'm just standing up for what I think is right." She takes another bite of her meal. "Well, as for Char … she's with us, she joined us. As far as we know, pretty much everyone—except for us—are attacking the Palace right now."

Kamber shoots up from her seat. "What?!" she screams. Everyone sitting in the cafeteria turns and stares at her. "You let Char go into the Palace?!" she starts pacing. "She could get severely hurt," the older Leger says, ticking things off with her fingers. "She could die, she could've gotten lost, captured, or maybe … maybe …" she buries her hands into her hair. "I'm sorry," Kamber says softly, "I'm so stressed right now. I just woke up less than half a day ago and find out that I've been out for a month my daughter has joined the Caste Rebels, my children are still in the Palace, and you're a Caste Rebel …"

Ivy goes over to her sister's side. "Sorry, Kam," she apologizes. "I know it's a big shock for you, but at least we told you the truth. I think that it would be much worse if we lied, right?"

Kamber straightens up. "Good point," she says briskly. "Let's go back to eating,"

* * *

><p>As the sounds of battle rages above her, Char wishes how she could've been there, upstairs, fighting along her fellow Caste Rebels, instead of sitting stuck in a prison cell doing nothing but hoping and wishing. Hoping for an escape. Wishing she never got stuck into this cell. Hoping that this nightmare, this dark prison cell, her broken heart, is all a horrible dream. A horrible nightmare. Wishing Liam never betrayed her, never shattered her heart like he did.<p>

A squeak of a door opening brings her out of her misery. She perks up, leaning forward in anticipation. Could it be a Caste Rebel, coming to free her? Was her wish really not so far-fetched? But when she sees a shadow of the Palace Guard uniform in the doorway, her shoulders sag, but she is not surprised. Of course they aren't going to come. No one saw her get captured. Heavy footsteps echo along the dark and murky passageways and stop at her cage. Voluminous blue eyes stare at her.

"Char?" A husky voice whispers in the dark.

"What do you want, Liam?" she spits out his name venomously. "Want to kill me again?"

He shakes his head vehemently. "No, Char. Please … just listen to me." He pleads. Char glares at him for a few seconds. Then she sighs and gives in. "Fine, Liam," she says at last. "Go ahead. But don't expect me to listen," Char warns.

"Char, please! I-I didn't mean to do that! Please! Forgive me! I really do like you. Please, Char."

"If you didn't 'mean to do that'," Char yells, emphasizing on _"didn't_", "Why did you do it?!"

"Char, I had to! They ordered me to! Please, Char, I'll get you out of here. I seriously like you, Charmaine. Please, I can free you, just please, don't be mad at me!"

Char snaps. "Listen, you son of a bitch, I've had enough of your pathetic excuses! Lies, lies, and more lies! You are a coward, Liam, a _coward_! If you really loved me, you wouldn't have given away my position. I will never believe you again, and if I get out of this stupid cage, I will make you regret ever doing that to me! I hate you, Liam! I can't believe I ever fell for you! Was our relationship based on a net, a mesh, of lies? Oh, I certainly think so! The Caste Rebel children are braver than you. You're a weak, pathetic, and poor excuse of a man, and I wish you never existed! If I ever get out of this cell, and I _know_ I will, one day, you will regret betraying me to the Palace Guards! I don't care that you yourself are one! You don't deserve the title of Guard, Rebel, or anything at all!" She points a shaking finger at the nineteen year old boy.

Liam stares at the ground for a few seconds. When he lifts his head back up, there are tears glistening in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Char," he says softly. "You're right. I _am_ a coward, a—."

"Glad to know that you're aware of that," Char puts in dryly.

"—poor, pathetic excuse of a man. You are right to call me these things and more. I'm really sorry, Char. I regret doing that."

"Then why don't you set me free already?!"

"I don't have the key, only the jailkeeper does," Liam says miserably.

"I still have'n't forgiven you, Liam. And next time I see you, you _will_ regret betraying me. Go. Now." Liam doesn't move. "NOW!" Char screams in agony. The tears she thought she stopped earlier are on the verge of spilling over.

Her first love walks away. But just as the door closes completely, Char swears she hears him say, "I still love you, Char."

* * *

><p>The next day, Char wakes up to find that scheduled tomorrow is her execution.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun dunnnnnn!<strong>

**So, well, ****_that_**** happened. Of course, my update might be a little late. I have managed to break my writer's block, but it's still there. **

**Reviews (for Chapters 22 and 23): **

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Yep, you got it right! And yea, you should start logging into your phone :P Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Haha. Chiam or Lar? Hmmmm, they're both … interesting. OKAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Here's the update! Lol see how I imitated you (again)? And happy belated birthday! (Man, I really have to start keeping up with these things—NOT GONNA HAPPEN!) Thanks!**

**Dianastyles11: Jaja, sí, estoy trece. La mayoría de mis lectores son mayores que yo. Yo creo que. Qué ?! 16 ?! Eso es una gran diferencia. No creo que mi escritura es que madura, aunque ... ¿Es Liam Payne actor? Lol nunca sigo las celebridades, así que realmente no sé: P Gracias!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Yea, a LITTLE romance. A bit more and I this story will fail. WHY IS EVERYONE SO SURPRISED I'M THIRTEEN?! Heh heh, thanks. You're pretty good yourself. :) And you must be psychotic. TROUBLE DID HAPPEN! I'm still jealous of you being perfect pitch. Although my theory teacher said that it is a blessing and a curse. Screw the curse, I'm still jealous! But I don't have perfect pitch but it still drives me insane when that happens! I have sensitive ears. Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: … Sorry? Don't cry! Honestly, I am like Maxon. I have no clue how to comfort people when they are crying, and what to even DO when they are! Yea, I suck at this. Thanks! Here's the update!**

**Fairy not princess: OH. MY. GOSH. I FREAKING LOVE LES MISERABLES! I love Eponine and Cosette. And I LOVED the musical! Oh my goodness, Anne Hathaway was the perfect actress for Fantine! And Enjolras' death was … uh … interesting? Haha, I don't know. It was like most deaths in there. Yea, I read a lot, too. Thanks!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: I know right?! I was reading PJO this morning and my classmates (over 75% of them are immature guys -_-) were like, "PERCY JACKSON SUCKS!" to which I replied, "SHUT UP!" Yes, I am very protective of my books. Poseidon and Zeus and Hades can electrocute them, drown them, or let them die in the Tartarus and I wouldn't give a crap. THEY HAD IT COMING, INSULTING THEM LIKE THAT! Oh YES the movie was pure crap. It was horrible! Awe, thanks! Yea, it sucks. But *sigh*, it's a part of every writer's life. :( Yea, they're still existing in my life but I've decided to push that aside. Prada and Prejudice? Is that a spin-off of the classic by Jane Austin, ****_Pride_**** and Prejudice? Haha, it's pretty obvious everyone here loves the Selection, so it doesn't really count. Wow, longest review so far. Thanks! **

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Yea, Hunger Games are awesome. I actually have never read Camp Confidential before. Oops? OH YAS OUT OF MY MIIND. By Sharon M. Draper? I didn't cry but I loved it. Only book that has ever made me cry: Fault in Our Stars. Curse you, John Green. I prided myself for never crying in books :( And ooh, the CandyMakers. Wendy Mass, right? I'm pretty sure I read it before, but it might've been Pi in the Sky. Great book, you should read it sometime. Thanks!**

**SelectedDivergentShadowHunter: Lol. The rest of your review made me smile. Thanks!**

**Dianastyles11: PERCY JACKSON ES IMPRESIONANTE! Mis compañeros de clase dicen: "Oh, no me gusta Percy Jackson," Yo soy como, "Púdrete," nadie se atreva a insultar MIS LIBROS ! Maravilloso Desastre? Nunca he leído que antes, en realidad. Gracias!**

**RQOTD: When was the latest you've ever gone to bed / sleep?**

**Answer to my RQOTD (Chapter 23): One simply does not ask an avid reader that question. LOL! But here are a few: Hunger Games, Lorien Legacies, Divergent, Fault in Our Stars, Percy Jackson. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**

**P.S. This is the longest chapter I've written so far :P**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hi!**

**I am not going to rant about school (for once). **

**Did any of you watch the Blood Moon a few days ago? I wanted to, but the fog came just when the Eclipse happened so I couldn't :( Oh well, they're always next year!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 25•<p>

America frantically leafs through the papers sitting on her desk. She tears through the looming piles of paper. Finally, she finds the execution paper she was looking for. Char's. She picks up the file and opens it.

_Charmaine Elizabeth Carrington. Crime: Impersonating a Royal. Sentence: Death,_ she read. _When: March 3, 9:00. Where: Palace jail. _America looks up from the sheet and glances at the clock. _8:35_. Her eyes drift to the folded DNA results hidden in the drawer. The piece of paper that changed her life a few minutes ago.

{_Flashback_}

_After Cassandra leaves the room, America takes the red dye and a few hairs from Therese's comb and heads to the Palace Hospital. "Hello, your Majesty." Doctor Delores says, once America arrives at her office. "How may I help you today?"_

_America holds up the bottle of red dye and the strands of Therese's hair. "Please, Doctor Delores," she confides, "Please examine these hairs. I found this bottle of red dye in Therese's room, and …" America halts. There is no need to say more. Doctor Delores understands what America is stating._

_"__Your Majesty, I will examine these immediately and let no one else touch it. I promise," the doctor says. _

_Relived, America stands up. "Thank you, Doctor," she says, "I'm glad I chose to talk to you,"_

_Five days later, America receives the results from Doctor Delores herself. "I did not let anyone else handle it," she says. "Here are the results, your Majesty"_

_"__Thank you," the Queen says, and accepts the envelope. When she opens it, the content inside confirms her suspicions. _

Queen America heads to the Training Room, where there's a selection of guns. America choose the smallest gun. Just in case the convicts assault her or something. _8: 46_. 14 minutes left until the true Princess of Illéa's execution. She heads down to the lowest floor, lower than the Kitchens, Laundry Rooms, Maid's Headquarters, and Dressmaking Rooms.

Guards bow to her as she goes by. She acknowledges them, but continues on. She bursts into the jails. A guard says, "Hello, Queen America. How may I help you today?"

As calmly as possible, she says, "I'd like to see Charmaine Carrington."

He frowns. "Your Majesty," he starts, but America bluntly cuts him off.

"Officer, where is she?"

"She's in the execution room, your Majesty," he replies, but she doesn't hear the end. The Queen is already running full force to the door marked _KEEP OUT_. She pushes the door open and steps into the cold metal room.

The scene lying in front of her puts Queen America to a halt.

Before her, an unconscious Charmaine is strapped into a metal chair, with a doctor standing over her, an ugly needle in his hand. A hypodermic needle.

* * *

><p>Casey glances at the faces. There's something off about his group, something he can't quite put a finger on. Yes, he lost a handful of Rebels in the attack, but something doesn't add up. He heads to his office and looks at the list with the Caste Rebel's names. He draws a line through the names of the ones who have died, and, paper in hand, heads to the cafeteria. Casey gazes at the faces and sees everyone there. Except for two people.<p>

Liam Henderson and Charmaine Carrington.

He checks his records. Liam never was recorded. But his father was a Palace Guard. Naturally, as in most cases, he'd followed his father's footsteps.

Then suddenly, everything clicks into place. Why Liam suddenly joined, why he was so insistent to get close to Casey and Terri, why he completed his training so quickly. Little things that spoke a big difference.

He was sent to the Caste Rebel Compound to send Charmaine back to the Palace and to reveal the location of the Base. Casey pounds his fists on the table. How could've he be so stupid? Commander Vincent would be livid when he finds out.

Like a lightbulb turning on, he knows where Char is.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it's so short and not-so exciting :( I couldn't connect it to the next chapter or else it'd be way to long. And it's just a filler chapter.<strong>

**Next chapter will be interesting, though … **

**Reviews:**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Here's more! Thanks!**

**BellatrixHazel: Ooh, new reviewer! Yay! And um … I don't know? Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Haha, thanks! Lar? Well, I ****_guess _****that could be their ship name … even though they broke up :( Thanks!**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Haha, your review made me laugh. I don't think any of us can stand Liam right now … Thanks! And okay bye …?**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Haha, no. Oh, the wonders of the wonderful (and totally unreliable) Google Translate. I can speak French, English (duh), and a dialect of an Asian language. The Asian Language and English I can speak fluently, but I am learning French in school. I think I know it quite well though. High five! *slaps the screen* yea, I have been up at 4:00 before. But only 2:30 when it came to writing, and I did that once. It was a school night too, and I felt like a zombie the next day. Thanks!**

**Fairy not princess: YAS I can't imagine anyone else playing Fantine other than Anne! Yea, Amanda's voice is a little too high for my liking, but it's still nice. But compared to Anne and Sam … eh …. (and by the way, Canadians ****_do not_**** say "eh!" all the time!) I love love love Samantha Barks. Oh my goodness she is so good! *claps hand over mouth* I haveta stop rambling … Thanks!**

**Dianastyles11: Oh ... vaya? Jaja, yo te dije que no sé nada acerca de One Direction ... aparte del hecho de que son británicos y hay cinco chicos ... lol. Ni siquiera sé todos sus nombres! Y Percy Jackson es impresionante! ****Gracias!**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Haha, you said "oh my gods!" As in, Percy Jackson 12 major gods / goddesses? Ha, I caught that! Thanks! Here's the update!**

**RQOTD: What stereotype do you hate the most?**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 24): 4:00. I was at a sleepover for a Children's Youth Group's leaders bonding thing, with both guys and girls. In different rooms, of course! We stayed up until 4 playing Wii, Just Dance (I failed, my dancing is terrible), and movies and food :)**

**Thanks for reading! See ya next week!**

**-K**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hello, guys!**

**Sorry it's a day late. I was really busy today and my laptop wouldn't turn on yesterday -_- Ugh. Technology fails when you need it. ****_And_**** this update alert email thing may arrive in your inbox tomorrow, although I posted it today. The internet is slow. **

****** BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! ***** Look below, after the chapter but before the reviews, for more details! **

**Anyways, happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 26•<p>

America is frozen for a second. "Stop!" she chokes out.

The guard hears this and the needle is suspended in mid-air. The point does not touch the girl's neck, but it doesn't drop to the floor, either. "Why?" The guard asks, carefully, as if he were stepping on enemy territory—quiet, cautious, and prepared for an ambush. "You Majesty, I think you have the wrong person. This is a criminal, arrested for impersonating Her Highness Princess Therese,"

Queen America shakes her head. "No, I know who this is. Free her."

"Uh, your Majesty—"

"Free her. Now," America insists.

"Your Majesty, this is my job, though! If I don't execute her, I won't get paid!"

_Lame excuses,_ thought America. _Everyone knows that they are paid monthly, not every time they perform their job. And they can have up to seven days off per year._ She forces a smile. "Alright, Officer. I will pay you your job, and you will free her."

The officer doesn't move. America sighs. Using the gun is her last plan. But now, it seems like she has no choice. Her hand slips through the folds of her dress to where she has hidden the gun. Suddenly Char twitches and jerks, all the while unconscious. Taking advantage of the situation, America aims at the man's left temple, and flicks her wrist. She silently thanks Maxon for the gruelling lessons on weaponry and aiming. It is crucial to know what you're doing to be able to knock a grown man out with one try.

The butt of the gun slams against his temple and he crumples to the floor. The needle clatters onto the floor. She hopes she didn't kill him, but just knocked him out.

Queen America opens the restraints holding the sixteen-year old girl in place, and lifts the girl into her arms. It feel so natural, even though this girl is a teenager, almost an adult, and America is carrying her like a baby. She feels a pang of sadness, when she remembers that she was put into prison for doing something she didn't do, that she never got to see her first steps, see her first teeth growing, hear her first word, see her birthdays fly by … but she brushes it all off. She has to focus on doing one this right now and that is not mourning for the important firsts she never got to see. It is finding a way to quickly get the girl to safety, before other Guards find out.

Even though she is the Queen, it doesn't mean she can get away with anything. Even though Maxon is her husband, and they are equals, it doesn't mean he can't overrule her. Even though Maxon loves her and always forgives her, it doesn't mean he will this time. Queen America knows she is playing a dangerous card, one that can land her butt in jail if it goes wrong, but she is wiling. Anything to fight injustice and let an innocent girl get killed, because someone framed her.

She remembers a passage somewhere around the bottom floor leading to the King and Queen' Suite. She hopes that Maxon isn't in the room. Carefully, she pushes the pushes the door leading to the jail cells, hoping none of them see her. The door opens with a _creak _and America winces, hoping no one heard it. She sets Char down for a minute, and presses the corner of a painting, revealing an opening only big enough for one person to go through at a time.

She slips her daughter's unconscious body through the opening first, making sure Char is safely resting on the ground, before easing herself through the opening. As soon as America is through, she carefully closes the opening. She holds her breath and hopes it doesn't make a sound. It doesn't. She straightens up and picks up Char again, this time holding her in a fireman's carry. She keeps walking until the path splits into two forks. She debates on which one she should take. It has been a long time since she used this passageway, and she doesn't really remember. She bites her lip, and takes the right fork, hoping it leads her where she wants it to.

Char suddenly moans. It echoes all over the underground chambers. America winces. For _sure _they will be found out soon. The maids and guards are always roaming the passages. America watches her for a moment, waiting for Charmaine to wake up. She doesn't. She keeps walking, turning left or right, hoping she is correct. A few times, she thinks she made it, but it didn't feel right. She walks up stairs. After carrying the unconscious girl for so long across her shoulders, they are starting to ache. She shifts Char into a more comfortable position.

She finally comes to a door. It is still decorated in streamers. She supresses a smile. She remembers this door, when she, Adrian, and Cassandra hid behind that door ten years ago, as a surprise for their Daddy's birthday. America is surprised that the maids didn't take it down. _Guess they thought it was cute,_ America decides. She knows that she has made the right decision. This is the King and Queen's Room.

She holds her breath and opens the trapdoor. It squeaks, as usual. She opens it all the way, and makes sure no one is around.

No one is.

She sets the girl down on her and her husband's bed. Char is safe. For now.

* * *

><p>"We keep pushing for the Crown to dissolve the Castes!" a voice says, slamming his—or her—hands on the table. "They never do," the voice continues. "I'm starting to think that they are never going to keep their promise,"<p>

"I heard of a group of Rebels, called Caste Rebels," another voice says. "Meredith, maybe we can team up with the Caste Rebels. They believe the same thing as us. I think some of the Caste Rebels were Northern Rebels who, early on, figured that the King and Queen wouldn't dissolve the Castes and formed a new group."

"Yes, I've heard of them before. It makes sense why suddenly our group of Northern Rebels shrank," the first voice—presumably Meredith—says. It was pretty obvious they ran away, but I didn't know they made another group. I just figured the founders of the Caste Rebels were ordinary citizens, probably in the Lower Castes, judging by the name. It's awesome how they recruited so many people."

"I don't see any point of staying here in the Castle when King Maxon and Queen America are not going to do anything about it. I heard that this girl, Charmaine, supposedly a Princess, was trying to push for them to dissolve the Castes, but then, it turns out that she was lying about her status. So the Castes stayed put." The speaker sighs, then pauses. Papers are shuffled around. "I only wish they dissolved the Castes _before_ Charmaine was revealed. Although I don't approve of people impersonating other people, dissolving the Castes are important. And not to mention that the Southern Rebels are planning something _BIG._ We need to have as many people as possible. They might be planning to take down Illéa somehow. And not just the palace, the _entire _country. _So_ should we form alliances with them?"

Meredith doesn't skip a beat. "Yes," she answers. "I've been observing them in their attacks. They are very much like us, and once or twice, I'm pretty sure I saw a few of our former Northern Rebels. Like Vinny—remember Carl's son? I'm pretty sure I saw him. And Casey, you know, Mariah's son? I think I saw him too."

"Okay, so you and I will go to the Caste Rebel Base—correct?"

"You know where it is?" Meredith questions, surprised.

"Yes and no. They might've used our old Base, before we moved to the Castle. It makes sense, because that is one of the only Bases big enough to hold well over a thousand people, and before, when we scoured the entire country to find another one, those were very small. Unless they made a new one from scratch, which is very unlikely. When will we leave?"

"Tomorrow. We leave tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>HUGE HUGE HUGE HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT! I am pleased to announce to all my wonderful readers that I am adopting user Cali-is-my-home's story, Lost! It will be up in three months, after this story is finished!<strong>

**Reviews:**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Yea … user Dianastyles also mentioned that to me. And I suck at remembering their names even though my friend mention the five guys in One Direction a little while ago. Liam, Harry, Niall … uh … my mind is drawing a blank. Haha, now you see what I mean. Yea Casey was stupid not to notice. Thanks!**

**HorseGalFangirl9: Okay, here's the update! Sorry it's a day late! VMC is your school, right? And YAS I totally agree with you. People ask me "Why do you read so much?" As if I'm a freak! Ugh! Next time I should ask "Well why do you breathe?" Yea, people think that private schools are for "high-class nerds and rich people". I dunno, that's what my friend told me. Thanks!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Oh haha I have the option of taking Spanish next year. Did you take French before? Is it similar to French? I absolutely have no clue whatsoever. All I know is "Gracias". Yea I can sleep for 10 hours and I ****_still _****will be tired. I like sleeping. A lot. Thanks!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: Lol, your reaction cracked me up. ****Cliffie Queen? ****Why did that suddenly remind me of Lorde's Royals? And why did it suddenly switch over to French? See I told you my keyboard—oh, and it's back to English again. WHAT THE HECK YOU STUPID PIECE OF TECHNOLOGY?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO MAKE MY LIFE EASIER, NOT HARDER! And well, how many octaves is your range? Mine is about two and a quarter. Ish. I know, it's not that good. Okay, fine. The weird thing is, my English class had a small "About Me" intro, and I wrote, under "Strengths and Weaknesses", for "Strengths", I wrote "I think I'm pretty good at writing". And my teacher actually said, "Yea, you are," and I was like "…did I just hear that correctly?" So yea that was weird. Yea, I totally get what you mean. My friend is sooo quiet, but when you get to know her, she's hilarious. That's why the saying "never judge a book—or well, person in this case—by its cover"! It's true. And haha, I agree. Weird review. Oh, well. I leave plenty of weird ones. Thanks!**

**BellatrixHazel: Oh. Ha, I can never keep track. Lol if you saw my complaint earlier you'll see that my computer spazzes out, too—ON A REGULAR BASIS! It sucks. Thanks! Yea, I agree. Char needs her revenge. She should kick him where it hurts :) ASAP. That'll serve him right. Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: Thanks! Here's the update!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Yea, I am too! Thanks!**

**Fairy not princess: Here's the update! Thanks!**

**RQOTD: Now that school is back in session for ALL of us, let's talk about school! Yay! (Hope you heard the sarcasm). What's your favourite school subject?**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 25); There's a really long list. So I'll summarize the top few. I hate it when people think Canadians always say "Eh!" That is SO not true! It really annoys me. And that we have an accent. Canadian English is the same as American English, other than the fact that we spell some words differently, like ****_honour _****or ****_colour_****! Another thing: I've had a few kids come up to me and ask: "Do you have a boyfriend?" Like, bro, are you saying that it's pretty much a stereotype for teens to be dating once they turn thirteen? Like BOOM! on their birthday they get a boyfriend for a present? Thanks for the info, I guess…? 'CUZ THAT ISN'T GONNA HAPPEN! And just because I'm Asian doesn't mean I'm super smart. People tend to assume that. Or that because I like to read and write I don't have good social skills because I'm always hiding behind a book or computer. (Actually, uhhh … that's kinda true … lol). I mean, I talk with everyone, but I prefer my laptop or book. Usually. **

**Ugh, stupid stereotypes. **

**Haha, enough of my ranting. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hey people!**

**Sorry there was no update last week :( If you didn't read my explanation on my collection of one-shots, I was sick last week, and when I am sick, I am in a foul mood. When I'm a grouch … my writing sucks. Trust me. The only reason I was able to upload my one-shot was because I wrote that before I got sick.**

**Also, I am going through a really hard time right now, and I actually, legitimately, truly, somehow lost any ability to write, or even have any motivation. And when that happens … it's pretty bad. I love to write, but when I actually cannot, mentally, emotionally, or physically, it's kind of a sign to have me pause. Don't worry, I'm not stopping. I am just taking some time off to sort out stuff and untangle some knots in my crappy life (I was going to use another word, but refrained from it). My life is so crappy that actually my grades started to slip a little … seriously sometimes I want to cry … and I swear, I practically never cry. I'm pretty much starting to have a mental breakdown … so I think that what is best for me, and all you lovely people, is that I will take a break and clear my head. It's not fair to me, nor you. You don't deserve half-heartedly-and-crappily written chapters. You don't deserve to read something that I didn't try my best on. I've been trying to hide it, but it's not working. **

***** I SWEAR I AM NOT QUITTING. I AM JUST TAKING A BREAK TO REFRAIN FROM HAVING A BREAKDOWN *****

**Enough of this seriousness! Let's continue on!**

**Oh, and I forgot, Meredith Illéa was EruditeAbnegationMockinjay's character! **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 27•<p>

Meredith and the other woman, Hazel, travel to where their old base was. "Man, I haven't been here for so long," Hazel says softly. "I kind of miss it,"

Meredith doesn't answer. She is busy scanning the area for passers-by. Seeing there is none, she pushes a part the grass and sees a trapdoor. She opens it and a ladder is revealed. She goes down the ladder and into darkness, with Hazel following. They find themselves in a small area, with walls surrounding them on both sides. Hazel and Meredith can barely be ten centimetres apart without crashing into one of the walls. Hazel bends down and hooks her fingers behind the wall adjacent to the wall with the ladder. She presses on a hidden spring. It parts open slightly and Meredith grabs her wench and pries it open a few more inches. They walk side-ways through the slim opening and after Hazel is through, retrieves her wench, and the stone door slams shut.

They find themselves in a large, drafty, stone-cold room. Two people stand at the other end, firearms raised, tense and alert. On their clothing, they bear the Caste Rebel insignia.

"Hello," Meredith says boldly. "I am Meredith Illéa, leader of the Northern Rebels, and I would like to meet with the leader of the Caste Rebels." Gesturing to Hazel, standing quietly beside her, she adds, in the same bold voice, "and this is Hazel Grattan, my second-in-command."

The two men look at each other, debating. Finally, one of them nods. "Yes, you may," one of them says. "We'll have to take your weapons, however." The women take their swords, guns, and knives and hand it to the Caste Rebels. They leave it on the table, and one of them turns around and heads to the metal doors behind them.

He leads the two women through the corridors. Rebels watch them silently as they stride by. Some are watching them thoughtfully, analyzing them. Others are suspiciously watching them like a hawk. And yet others are curious, trying to look as if they are not interested in those two people, but in reality, are wondering what they are doing.

The Caste Rebel leads them down another hallway, smaller than the rest. He stops and knocks twice, and upon hearing no response, enters. Commander Vincent sits at one of the monitors. Casey clears his throat. "Ahem, sir," he says hesitantly. There is no response from Commander Vincent. Casey clears his throat again. This time, he swivels his chair around and faces his second-in-command and the two women.

"What do you want?" Commander Vincent asks, impatient.

"Sir, these two Northern Rebels would like to speak with you,"

Commander Vincent creases his forehead. "I thought the Northern Rebels died out already. My father said that after the Northern Rebels allied with the Crown, they became Special Guards …"

Meredith shakes her head, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders. "No, sir. We are still going strong. We have recruited many people still, but not as many as before we allied with the Crown."

"Hang on," Commander Vincent suddenly says. "Where are my manners? Although we are not really a part of society, it doesn't mean that we are barbarians. That describes the Southern Rebels," He drags a chair from one of the many tables across the floor and sits at a steel table. The chair squeaks, as if protesting the move. Commander Vincent gestures for them to sit. They oblige. He clasps his hands together and starts. "Nash said that you would like to speak with me?"

"Oh, yes," Hazel says. She tells him of Charmaine's importance to the Northern Rebels, the Southern Rebel's actions, what they think the Southern Rebels would do next. "I think that with the Palace Guards, Northern Rebels, and Caste Rebels, together, fighting the Southern Rebels, we can defeat the Southern Rebels. It will take a bit of work to convince the Palace Guards to ally with us, as their fighting methods are different, but it should be no problem. However, with just us and the Guards, we are too insignificant in numbers. With you, however, it should suffice," Hazel concludes.

Commander Vincent ponders this for a while. Finally, he nods. "You have a very valid point," he states. "The Southern Rebel attacks _have_ been getting worse and worse; more people are getting killed each time. I know that their goal is to take over our country and make it for the worse. In order to save our lives—and the citizens' lives—we'll have to join together. They are powerful, with deadly weapons. I, myself, have seen them before. It will take many people to subdue them, but we can, if we work together." He stands up. "Yes, on behalf of the Caste Rebels, we will join you." He extends his hand for Meredith to shake.

She takes it. He also shakes Hazel's hand.

"Thank you, sir," she says, and walks out, Hazel in tow.

Turning to the Rebel standing by the door, Commander Vincent says, "Henry, inform the Compound and Bases of the new change of plans. We are now allied with the Northern Rebels, and our only goal is to defeat the Southern Rebels. Not shut them up, to idle them—but conquer them, for once and for all."

* * *

><p>Therese and Silivia sit in the Women's Room again. Silvia has her test papers in her hand again, but this time, it's marked. "Good job, your Highness," she says, rifling through the stack. "You did pretty well. 86%. It may not seem that good, to your standards," she says, taking note of Therese's crestfallen face, "but this is very well done for someone your age. This test is designed to be extra-difficult. I'm not sure even if your mother can get them all right,"<p>

Therese winces at Silvia's mention of her "mother". America truly isn't her mother, and, judging by the suspicious look the Queen directed at her earlier this morning, she knows the truth.

She is broken out of her thoughts when a pile of papers is thrust in front of her. "Here," Silvia says kindly, 'you can look through them and see what you did wrong." Therese opens her mouth to ask if there can be a re-test, but Silvia plows on. "Unfortunately, there can be no re-tests, Char," Silvia continues sympathetically. Therese's shoulders sag.

Suddenly, a voice rings out. "Forgive me for interrupting," a guard says. "Princess Therese, you are needed in the meeting room. Immediately. The King says that it is an emergency,"

.

America gently cleans Char's battered-and bruised body. She scrubs away the grime. She notes that Char is approximately the same height as the Queen herself, so she dresses her daughter in one of them.

Suddenly, someone knocks on the door.

She spins around, frantic. She picks up Char again and runs to the bathroom. She lays Char on the chair nearby, turns on the tap, and has it run full force. Next, she grabs the fluffy purple bathrobe and ties it around herself. She thanks the maids for making it long enough to cover her day dress. She closes the door leading to the bathroom and opens her bedroom door.

Lucy is on the other side of the doorway. "Hello, Luce," she greets her long-time friend.

"Oh, hi, Ames," she returns. "Did I interrupt your bath? Sorry if I did,"

"No, I was getting ready though." Suddenly a _thud_ resounds from the bathroom and America tenses. Lucy just looks puzzled.

"What was that?"

"Um … nothing," America says. "My shampoo bottle probably tipped over, that's all. No big deal,"

Lucy rolls her eyes. Everyone knows that the Queen is a terrible liar. "Ames, that's no shampoo bottle. The sound sounds like it's fairly heavy." She pauses. "You know you can trust me, right?"

America bites her lip, debating. She _can _trust Lucy. Finally, she says, "Okay, I trust you. But you must promise not to tell a single soul about this. Maxon will be pissed if he finds out. Thankfully, he's at a meeting right now." She leads her friend to the closed bathroom door and opens it.

.

Therese sits in front of the King. "Dad," Therese starts, "Why did you want me here so urgently?"

King Maxon looks grim. "Therese, I have a few minutes before my next meeting. But one of our guards reported that Charmaine has escaped. The officer says that he brought her to the execution room, then he got knocked out. When he awoke again, she was gone. But that was about three hours ago. She can be anywhere by now,"

"What would you like me to do, Dad?" Therese questions. Commander Peter's words ring in her mind. _Kill him,_ it repeated, over and over. _Kill the King and we can rule_. She has a knife in her pocket. But she can't kill him. Not now. She hates to admit it, but she really did grow closer to the Royal family. Guess living a few weeks with them affected you, no matter where you stood—with the Southern Rebels, the Caste Rebels, or the Crown.

A series of sharp knocks cuts their conversation short. "Oh, I guess that's the end of our meeting." Maxon says, straightening his tie. "Round up a dozen soldiers to look for her, okay?"

Therese nods.

* * *

><p>Lucy cradles the still-knocked out girl's head on her lap. "Poor girl," she says, after hearing America's story and finding. Suddenly, quick footsteps thunder down the halls.<p>

"Quick! Luce, stay in the bathroom. If Char wakes, shush her," America says. "I will answer the door," She opens the door and sees Therese running down the hallway. "Hello! Therese, why the rush?" America asks, taking note of the girl's laboured breath.

"Char—missing … escaped … gone," she pants, facing her mother. "Dad said … to warn guards and get … twelve to look …for her,"

America nods. "Thank you, Therese. I have to take a bath now," she adds. "See you at lunch. By the way, do Cass, Adrian, Toria, Shalom, and Spencer know?"

Therese shakes her head. "I'm telling them right now."

America nods, and closes the door. She quickly tells Lucy what just happened, and Lucy smiles, much to the redhead's surprise. "Lucky for you," she starts, "I was just returning some maid's uniforms. I still have them. We can dress her up as a maid and carry her to the Maid's Dorms."

"Good idea,"

* * *

><p>One of his advisors starts. "We have some new information. According to Meredith Illéa, the Northern Rebels and Caste Rebels have teamed up, to destroy the Southern Rebels."<p>

Maxon raises an eyebrow. "Caste Rebels?" he repeats.

'Yes, Caste Rebels," the first man clarifies. "Their beliefs are very similar."

"Thank you," the King says. "Anything else?"

No one speaks. Maxon takes a breath. "From what I have gathered, the Southern Rebels are preparing for their biggest—and final—attack on the Palace—and Illéa. The Northern Rebels must have foreseen this, so that's why they teamed up with the Caste Rebels. But just those two are not enough. The Southern Rebels have also allied with other countries." Sounds of exclamation and surprise can be heard around the table.

Maxon patiently waits for the advisors to quiet down before continuing on. "Apart from the Caste Rebels, as far as I've heard, the Northern Rebels have allied with Italy, New Asia, Swenday, Soviet Russia, and New Europe. The Southern Rebels, however, have allied with France and Germania."

The whole table is silent. Everyone is in shock.

"So what you're saying is…" An advisor chokes out, unable to continue.

King Maxon nods grimly, clasping his hands on the table. "World War Five has begun," he says quietly. "But this time, it's different. It depends on the outcome of the war. If the Southern Rebels win, we're doomed. If the Northern Rebels win, we will live."

* * *

><p><strong>Ya, I'm evil, hmm? :) I had this cliffhanger and story bomb (is that what you call it?) planned out since July :)<strong>

**Reviews:**

**Selectionprincess59: Math?! Heh, math is okay, I guess. Using your brain is fun, and I like it, but I HATE integers and all that. But my teacher is kinda boring … I feel asleep in his classes before … Oops? Thanks!**

**Fairy not princess: Science is cool, but the formulas make my head swim. TOO MUCH STUFF TO MEMORIZE! But it is very interesting … we learn more about the world around us and everything. AND OH YAS people who don't try or do anything because they "suck at it" annoy me so much, UGH! History is fun … as long as the lectures aren't 3 hours long … Yep, been there. My history teacher makes her lessons really interesting because there are a lot of interactive stuff in her lessons. Thanks!**

**PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: French is similar to Spanish, though, so if you know one, picking up the other will be easier. And ya my friend is blonde and people used to make fun of her for having blonde hair. But the moment she discovered blonde jokes … she fell in love with them. Seriously. Dancers, in my opinion, are most elegant, graceful, and serene than cheerleaders. I don't know … it's just that I never liked the pom-poms or cheers. Never. Haha, maybe we should! Thanks!**

**BellatrixHazel: *Sigh* Technology is very unstable. Ugh. Ya, it sucks. Oh, that's even worse, not being able to update and readers thinking you're MIA. Thanks!**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Thanks!**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Haha, close enough … I'll forget them soon again. DUDE CHILL! It won't be out 'till January! Lol. *Screams, then stops. Sits down, crosses legs.* Okay I'm done. LOL that was quick. Thanks!**

**ReadLikeYouMeanIt: UGH I TOTALLY GET WHAT YOU MEAN. But trust me, he isn't the worst. Someone told me that their teacher once said, "Compared to Canada, Australia is HUGE!" A bunch of classmates told the teacher she was wrong, but she insisted that Australia was HUGE. *Shakes head* I don't know HOW THE HECK she got her degree. I love MT! My friends are in MT (I was too, for like, one class) and they all say it's really fun. Haha, thanks! He's a really hard marker and NEVER compliments anyone … I've only heard him compliment one other person … but my friend is a genius so I shouldn't be surprised. Thanks!**

**RQOTD: What's the last book you read?**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 26): I like English, Science, History, and Music. It's fun OKAAAYYY?!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hi!**

**Long time, no see! How are you all doing? **

**I feel terrible, this is a day late! ****_And_**** there was no update last week :( I was busy yesterday because I had a few appointments and stuff, and by the time I got home, it was already quite late. My mom shooed me off to bed, so ya.**

**And that break did me wonders :) My life is now under control and one of my friends is helping me from getting a mental breakdown. He's an awesome guy, that's for sure :)**

**But yay, new chapter!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 28•<p>

A salt-and-pepper haired man is the first to break the silence. "But why?"

Maxon looks wearily at him. "Why what?"

"Why are our allies our allies? Why are our enemies our enemies?"

Maxon sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Kingsley, you are new here so you may not be so informed. Ever since the beginning of my reign, France and Illéa have never been on good terms. Queen Daphne has held a grudge against me for years—a very foolish grudge, may I add." No one asks him to elaborate. His expression already warns the advisors not to mention or ask that topic again. "Germania—we have been trying to ally with them for years. Even when my father—" some of the older advisors glance down, in respect. Although he has been dead for years, they still respect him. "—had tried before my reign. They are a very proud, independent people. Their military force is powerful. Italy has been our ally ever since America and I started to rule. She and the Italian Queen, Nicoletta, are very close, as you might know. We signed a 30-year contract with New Asia. We will remain allies and support each other during that time. We still have about 12 years left. As for Soviet Russia, I … don't know." Maxon admits. "Soviet Russia is a powerful country, but very discreet. Very often, it carries out acts that leaves even its citizens puzzled. But they are a very successful nation, although none of us are able to comprehend its doings. We will just have to pray it means what it does, and that it will stay with the Northern Rebels' side."

"I think it's because Germania attacked Soviet Russia in World War IV, and they suffered heavy losses. They may be wanting to get revenge," an advisor sitting across the table says. "You were too young to remember, your Majesty. I remember that you were a young child when it happened." Maxon scowls slightly at the mention of his childhood. It is evident he doesn't like hearing about his childhood in front of his advisors. His whippings started at an early age, and although he endured that for most of his life, he tries to cast those memories aside. He listens nonetheless, and does not stop the elderly man who he views as an uncle. "Soviet Russia was devastated, so many young men and women were killed. We had to help them get back on their feet for a while," he continues. "It was smart of the Northern Rebels, allying with countries who wanted revenge on France and Germania. Those countries who agreed are the same countries from the Fourth World War. Not all countries allied in the last world war agreed, however."

King Maxon nods. "Thank you, Marcus," he says, taking the reins once more.

* * *

><p>Sherri runs up to Jake. "Jake?" she asks.<p>

"Yea?" the nineteen year old says.

"What's a World War Four? I was walking past the meeting room and I heard someone mention that. What is it? Can you eat it?" the now-eight year old girl tilts her chin thoughtfully. "I also heard something about a young child. But I think war is something bad. Like, people die in it … right? Silvia gives me lessons on Illéan history and her textbook said something about a war and something about a country called … Merica? Amurica? Something like that."

"America," Jake corrects his sister.

Her brows furrow. "America?" she repeats. "That's the same name as Queen America!" she protests.

"She was named after the former country," Jake explains patiently. "And you don't have to worry about what you heard. About the World War Five thing, I mean. It doesn't involve you," he says. _I hope_, he adds internally.

"Okay!" Sherri says. A clock somewhere, probably the large, brown, ancient grandfather downstairs in the dining hall, suddenly chimes. Sherri hops up from her seating position on the lush red carpet. "Ooh!" she exclaims. "That's the lunch bell!" she then prances off, running to the dining hall.

"Oh…kay," Jake says. "See you soon?" she calls to Sherri's retreating figure. Then to himself, he mutters, "I should look into the World War Five thing…"

* * *

><p>Slipping an unconscious girl into a maid's uniform isn't easy, but America has had lots of practice with that. Her children—minus Char, of course—would always fall asleep after some large gathering when they were younger, so their mother would have to change their clothes for them. However, performing the same thing to a sixteen year old is a different story. Even with Lucy's help, it was no easy task.<p>

But they succeeded nonetheless.

America carries an unconscious "maid" down the hall to the maid's headquarters. People stare questioningly at the duo as she walks by. "Maid was cleaning my room, and then _bam!_—she fainted. I'm carrying her to the Maid's Headquarters'. Hopefully she'll get better soon," the Queen explains. Guards bow and create a path for her. Finally, she reaches the door. The door, which behind it, holds dozens and dozens and dozens of beds, trinkets, everything a maid deems is important to her, something that, even though it may be worthless or even considered garbage to others, is like gold to the maid herself. She lays the girl on one of the beds.

There is a gasp, and a growl. "America?" A voice demands, filled with anger, "_What_ exactly are you doing?"

America whirls around in shock.

Caught.

* * *

><p>Sherri arrives at the table, a little breathless. "Hi!" she chirps happily. She then looks around, noticing some empty chairs. She frowns. "Where's Auntie America and Uncle Max?" she asks Toria, referring to the King and Queen as her uncle and aunt, respectively.<p>

Toria shrugs, taking a bit out of her salad. "I don't know," she says, after swallowing. "Maxon is at a meeting, but as for America … I haven't seen her since breakfast." She pats the top of Sherri's head, earning a swat on the hand and a glare from the eight-year-old. "I wouldn't worry about it," she reassures the pigtailed black-haired girl. "She'll come when she does."

Sherri nods, her hazel eyes glancing over at the chairs that their Majesties would sit in. "Jake's gonna meet up with someone and then come down," she suddenly announces.

"Did somebody just call my name?" a voice inquires from somewhere behind her.

"Jake!" she squeals.

"Jake!" one of the boys, Shalom, says. "Can you play a game of soccer with Spencer, Kurt, Chase, and Adrian? Please? Please? Please?"

"Please!" Kurt says.

He laughs. "Alright, kids," he finally consents. "Just eat your lunch first!"

* * *

><p>Casey picks up the phone and dials a number. "Hello, how may I help you?" a pleasant female voice at the other end says. She sounds pleasant, at least, but Casey knows better. After saying that phrase a hundred times a day, anyone would hate that phrase by the end of the day. And she does that every single day.<p>

"Hello, I would like to speak with Caroline, please. She's a maid,"

The voice pauses. "Hold on," she says, and the other end plays a quick, lively tune. Casey waits. A minute passes. Then two. Then finally, finally, her breathless voice comes onto the phone.

"Hello?" she asks.

"Caroline?" Casey asks. "This is your brother-in-law," This isn't really true. They are not related, not closely, at least. The two of them arranged a code, however, so they could reach the other without having the officials suspicious. Caroline and Casey being in-laws meant that there was something urgent, but she didn't need to return to the Base. Casey being her brother meant that there was an emergency, and that the maid had to get back to the Caste Rebel Base as soon as she could. The closer the two's relationship got, the more urgent the message—or matter—became.

"Hi," she responds.

"I hacked into the Palace phone line," he reassures her, "so we are able to speak freely. Commander V is monitoring the cameras and gadgets for any sign of suspicious events. Anyway," he continues, "I'm not sure if you heard, but the Southern Rebels have allied with Germania, and some other countries—I don't remember."

Caroline starts to nod in agreement, before realizing that Casey can't see her through the phone. "Yes, I heard about that. Why are you telling me this?"

"I need you to find out…"

* * *

><p><strong>Well, what do you think Casey's request for Caroline is? Tell me in the reviews!<strong>

**Reviews:**

**BellatrixHazelRose: WOOHOO TECHNOLOGY WORKS AGAIN! Okay, done screaming now :) Thanks!**

**selectionprincess59: OH I LOOOOVE THAT BOOK! Did you like it? Thanks!**

**Theoneforever: GIRL YOU GOTTA CALM DOWN! Yes, it's WORLD WAR FIVE! Thanks!**

**Dianastyles11: Lol. Yes, the hairs revealed Therese's secret, right? Thanks!**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Ya, and I'm LOADED with projects. And homework. In fact, I'm supposed to be doing homework right now. Oops? (SHHH DON'T TELL ANYONE) Ya, I'll PM you if I do. Thanks! Lol, they're not ****_that_**** good, in my opinion. You sound exactly like one of my close friends. I don't think it's that good (my other friend's writing abilities are a KILLER) but she keeps insisting … Thanks!**

**RQOTD: What do you prefer: Apple phones or Samsung phones?**

**Answer to RQOTD (to chapter 27): Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow. It's written by Jessica Day George, and it's a retelling of a book called "East of the Sun and West of the Moon" or something like that. You should totally read this book! (Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow, I mean.) My friend recommended it to me and I LOVE IT!**

**Thanks for reading! **

**-Kiren**


	29. Chapter 29

**Well, my readers will finally find out how much of a scatterbrain I am :/**

**Ha, so I ****_totally_**** forgot to mention to you folks that now, since school is totally whipping my butt (yay! Note sarcasm), there will be random updates from now on. So, yes, any time, any day, whatever. So … yea, that's what I mean.**

**I was going to include two other things I had to say … but I forgot. Oops? Hopefully, I'll remember soon.**

**Happy reading! **

* * *

><p>•Chapter 29•<p>

America whirls around in shock. Aspen stands in the doorway, arms crossed, looking sternly at her. At this moment, it doesn't matter that America is the Queen and Aspen is under her. He is her brother at this moment, he is protective of her.

"Um, uh …" she stutters. As she desperately searches for an excuse, Char rolls over to her side, her face facing the doorway. Aspen's eyes widen in recognition.

"Mer, that's the escaped convict!" he exclaims. "_What_ are you thinking, rescuing a criminal?! She impersonated Princess Therese, for heaven's sake!" He strides over to where the teenaged girl lay, his long legs covering the short distance easily. "Mer, I don't know what you are thinking, but after I dispose this girl back to where she belongs—the prison cell, with extra guards handling her this time, you and I are going to have a talk." Then muttering to himself, he adds, "_don't_ understand why America saved her,"

"Aspen, wait," America says, putting a hand out to stop the former guard.

He knits his eyebrows together in annoyance. "Can't it wait 'till later, Mer?" he asks. "We should get this girl out of here before she wakes up. Who knows what she is able to do? I mean, she can be an axe murderer for all I know. SO now is the best time,"

"No, it isn't," America counters, blocking his way to Char. "She's the one who's framed, she isn't the one who should find herself in jail. She's the one who has been impersonated, and she doesn't deserve to get this. She didn't do anything wrong."

Aspen forcefully barks out a laugh. "Is this the right time to tell jokes, America?" he asks. He gently moves the red-haired queen aside. "I don't know _what_ is going on with you and your mind today, but she needs to return to her rightful place."

"No, Aspen," America replies, standing between him and Charmaine again. "She was framed, Aspen. I'm serious," and by the tone of her voice, Aspen knows that she is not joking.

"Either you're crazy, or you have to go to a mental asylum," Aspen mutters under his breath. America shoots him a glare, meaning that she heard his words, but proceeds to ignore it.

"Anyways, Aspen, I'm serious," she insists. her ice-blue eyes hardening. In fury or frustration, Aspen can't tell. "I saw a bottle of red hair dye in Therese's room about a week and a half ago. And I took some hairs from her brush—it was conveniently laying on her dresser, I did _not_ snoop through her stuff—to test the DNA. I wouldn't be that suspicious, but the hair dye _did _tip me off. And the hairs … they looked a little brown on the end, like near the roots, Aspen. If her natural hair colour is actually brown, it would explain as to why there is dye in her room and bits of brown showing on the strands." Aspen Leger still appears not to be entirely convinced, so she continues. "I brought the hair strands and let Doctor Delores inspect the DNA in her hair. I got the results back, Aspen. And my hunch was right. Therese really isn't mine and Maxon's daughter. But she could've fooled us, however, if I didn't see that bottle."

Aspen folds his arms, like he always does when he's in deep thought. "But didn't you already have the DNA test? Way back, when Therese came to the palace?"

"Yes, we did," America confirms. "But the doctor who did it—Doctor Abernathy, I believe his name is—has only been with us for a couple of months. Yes, he has gotten very high scores in his training, but perhaps he accidentally switched the names around."

"That probably isn't likely, though," Aspen counters.

"Well, there is that chance, you know," America argues.

Aspen sighs, and runs a hand through his dark hair. America sits down on the bed, waiting for his reply. A slight rustle comes out from within her dress. The Queen frowns and fishes it out. "Here!" America exclaims, handing the folded piece of paper over to the former guard. "Here is proof that Therese is NOT the true princess." Aspen reluctantly takes the paper and scans it over. "Remember," America interjects, "Read it neutrally don't be biased,"

_Biological Family Report_

_Case no.: 84668_

_Name: Therese Michelle Tudor-Schreave_

_Sample: Hair_

_Results: Negative. The DNA sample from Miss Tudor-Schreave are different fromt the DNA sample of Her Majesty Queen America Singer-Schreave. _

Aspen looks up from the tiny piece of paper. "What?" he murmurs, stunned. America watches him calmly, without saying a word. "How…?" he can't seem to finish his sentence.

"Aspen, Therese could've passed for my girl if it weren't for the DNA test. I have known Doctor Amelia for a dozen years, now. Maybe even more. I trust her. A lot. Therese could've been my daughter," she continues, "is because, remember, Queen Amberly was Hispanic. So is Therese. Therese could've looked like her grandmother. That's why Spencer is slightly tanner than the rest of the kids."

Aspen frowns, not fully comprehending.

"I don't fully understand it either, Aspen," she says. "But—"

The sight of those chocolate eyes, normally so warm and gentle, are now filled with anger and disgust, halt the redhead Queen's words. The words die on her lips.

Maxon is there, standing behind Aspen, and, to his wife's horror, he has already seen the young girl, unconscious on the bed.

* * *

><p>"I need you to find out if there are any Southern rebels working inside the palace," Casey says. "There may be, and I suspect there are a few. However, Commander Vincent relayed this message: 'Investigate Doctor Abernathy's background. He, from my sources, seems like a suspicious fellow. A few others are already looking into it, but not all, or else he will get suspicious. Of course, Amelia will be the one leading it. Three maids named Jenny, Queenie, and Yasmin. Jenny always seems to disappear before and during the attacks, and one of the Caste Rebels swore that she saw Jenny and Yasmin with the Southern Rebels. Queenie because Arabella thought she saw a five-pointed star with a circle around her neck. All of the advisors, of course. Arabella and Doctor Delores will be helping you with that.'<p>

"I'm fairly sure that's it, now," Casey says. "I must go now. Bye."

"Bye," Caroline responds, and hangs up the phone.

* * *

><p>Casey puts the phone back to its original spot, and turns around to see Commander Vincent waiting there. "Have you made the announcement yet?" he asks.<p>

"What announcement?" Casey returns, confused. Realization dawns on him. "Oh, _that_ one. I will, just before lunch starts,"

The Commander nods, satisfied. "Alright. I will see you then, I suppose." He abruptly turns around, and melts into the shadows. Casey shakes his head. Commander Vincent may be subtle and discreet in his ways, but he really can lead a team to victory.

He goes to the training room and starts to shoot targets. Suddenly, as he lines up to take another shot, without any warning, a hand appears on his arm. Casey startles and the bullet shoots out, way out of line. It buries itself in the wall beside it. He visibly relaxes when he sees that it's just Terri at his elbow.

"Sorry about that," she says apologetically. "I didn't know you couldn't hear me,"

Casey shakes his head. "No, no, it's fine. And of course I couldn't hear you; your treads are softer than anyone else's. Is there anything wrong?"

"Actually, that's why I came running all over the compound to find you," his fiancée says. "There's been a big change," she announces. "You are needed in the Command Room immediately."

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think is so important, that Casey needs to be in the Command Room so urgent? How do you think Maxon will react? Tell me in the reviews!<strong>

**Reviews:**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Ugh, my teachers loaded me with homework. I have a three-day weekend (because of Parent-teacher-student Interviews and the weekend—and they gave me ten assignments to complete. Yay me. Thanks!**

**selectionprincess59: Ya apple phones are better :) Thanks!**

**ItsjustSam: Ha, first off, awesome name. Short and straight to the point. And one of my friend's name is Sam. So, haha. Awe, thanks. I don't think I'm that good. (YES I WILL KEEP STATING THAT I KNOW I HAVE SAID THAT MANY TIMES ALREADY). Yea, I think it has the reader connect—or understand—the characters a bit more, ya know? I don't know, it works for me, at least. Haha, we'll see about that. I really suck at love scenes and cute fluffy stuff, so I try to avoid them :P I'll try, maybe I'll incorporate a cute little LiamxChar scene at the end. Keep your fingers crossed! OH NO WAY AM I GOING TO STOP WRTING THIS STORY! If that happens … go ahead and sue me. Lol. Ya, writer's block sucks. That's why I carry a little notebook around with me to write ideas down so I can avoid writer's block. It works … 75% of the time :/ Ha, okay, I will! Thanks!**

**Okay, guys, I finally remembered what I was going to say. We have about eight-ish to ten-ish chapters left for this story (but my estimation may be off … I stink at guessing … seriously), and, let's reach, say, 200 reviews? Do you guys think you can do that? But I still have forgotten the other thing … Grrr … **

**Okay, RQOTD: (By the way, I am NOT going to judge you …) Who's your favourite singer? And no, ****_not_**** band, I mean singer. As in, one person.**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 28): Apple phones. I have an iPhone and my mom has an android and I don't like using her phone. Haha. **

**Thanks for reading! Oh, and for all you who live in the USA … Happy thanksgiving! (Wait, did I get the date right?)**

**-K**


	30. Chapter 30

**Hai guys! **

**I know, I know, I am a jerk. I mean, I haven't updated for a WHOLE FREAKING MONTH! Gosh, it feels like years. Honestly, guys, I am so freaking sorry … I just had a crapload (not a real word but I don't care :P ) of homework and stuff … and on top of that, I have a French assignment … I have to write a short story/one-shot/drabble – type thing to obtain a bonus mark. And although I get good marks in French, this is killing me. **

**And how am I supposed to juggle babysitting, piano, schoolwork, praciting other instruments, school, writing, and sleep? Yea, piano takes up a LOT of my time … it's hard to find time to write … :(**

**SO ENOUGH ABOUT MY SCHOOLWORK AND STUFFS … ON WITH THE STORY!**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 30•<p>

Maxon glares at his wife. "Care to explain to me why an escaped convict is lying behind you, in a maid's uniform, and that you are not doing anything about it?"

America looks at her friend, her eyes saying, _Help me here!_ Aspen doesn't move. America sighs and steps forward. She guesses that she wil have to handle this all on her own. "Maxon," she starts, looking him in the eye, "this girl was framed."

He snorts, not at all kingly-like. "Ha. Fat chance," he says, unbelievingly. "Now tell me why she's here."

"Maxon!" America exclaims. "I already told you! She was framed! She's the real princess, not Therese!"

He crosses his arms and looks at the red-headed queen. "Yeah, right." He says sarcastically. "And May is actually my sister, and Aunt Adele is actually my grandmother." He snorts again.

"Maxon, listen," America pleads. "I was in Therese's room the other day, and found some red hair dye. Why would she be dyeing her hair red if she is actually our daughter?"

Maxon doesn't respond, he just stays there, rooted to the spot.

America sighs, then continues. "I began to suspect. I took some hairs from her comb and took them to Doctor Delores to analyze. I also gave her my hair to compare. Maxon, the results came in. None of the DNA match mine," she says.

Maxon begins to look mildly interested. America take this as a sign that her husband is listening, and continues.

"Think about it," she insists, stepping even closer to the king of Illéa. "Therese looks nothing like us," she says. "Whereas Charmaine, look at her. Just think about her. Forget her DNA results, everything. Just … look at her for who she is, Maxon. She has your hair and my eyes. She is similar in build to Cassandra. But Therese? She …" America trails off, hating this argument. After a minute, she picks herself up again. "Therese … she looks slightly Hispanic, and her build is nothing like Cassandra's. Sure, she has brown eyes … but they're not chocolate brown, like how yours are. They're just …" she searches for an appropriate word to describe Therese's eyes, but gives up. "… brown, I guess." She halts and she stares at her hands.

Somehow, deep down, she has a feeling that she will lose this argument.

Maxon looks at his queen, the country's queen, his bride, his beloved. Finally, he steps even closer to his wife, and plants a gentle, but seemingly meaningless, as if it's a habit, kiss on the top of her head. "I'll think about it," he says, his voice husky, void of any emotion. _Since when were his kisses meaningless?_, wonders America.

* * *

><p>Casey returns his rifle to the designated spot, and follows Terri out of the Training room, and into the Command Room. Commander Vincent and half a dozen other Caste Rebels sit around the table in the centre. There are two empty chairs; one, Casey assumes, for himself, and the other, for Terri.<p>

"Sit," the Commander orders, gesturing at the empty chairs. They oblige, and Commander Vincent starts. "Alright, I'll get straight to the point. As many of you have heard, we are on the verge of World War V. As you all _should_ know, we have allied with the Northern Rebels." One of the Rebels start to ask a question, but Commander Vincent raises his hand up. "All questions can wait," he says. "Perhaps it will be answered later, as this meeting progresses. So," he continues, "our forces have gotten stronger. However, we still have to figure out what the Southern Rebel's next plan is. We have to figure out how to stop them, terminate Germany's forces, and silence France's army. Arabella and Amelia have already informed me that the King's advisors at the palace are doing this also, but we cannot rely on them for progress, obviously. Even though they are also try to stop the Eastern Powers—the Southern Rebels, Germania, and France's name for their powers—from leaving Illéa in ruins, who knows? There may be advisors who are secretly supporters of the Southern Rebels. Right now, with everything so tedious and delicate, honestly, there is no one we can trust now—except those here, and the Northern Rebels," he finishes.

"Why them?" One of the Rebels ask, curious.

"Well," Casey starts, just as Commander starts to speak, "That's because—"

Commander looks at Casey, waiting for him to continue, while Casey says, "You first, sir."

"That's because I have known the Northern Rebels as a young boy," Commander Vincent replies. "I grew up with those people. It was only twenty years ago that I left and formed _us_—the Caste Rebels, because I felt like the Northern Rebels weren't doing anything. We have the same beliefs, and we just allied with them. I trust them, but no one else," he finishes.

The Caste Rebels nod their head simultaneously, comprehending. "We still need to get down to other business. First things first: planning their attack. So, I suggest that we …"

* * *

><p>"America, we need to talk," Maxon says later that afternoon to his wife after another meeting.<p>

_We need to talk_. Those words repeat endlessly in her head. Those few words bring her dread. She doesn't want to hear them, but turns around nonetheless. "Yes?" she inquires, gazing thoughtfully at her husband. Then, as an afterthought, she adds nervously, "Is it about Charmaine?"

He shakes his head. "No, it isn't about that," he assures her, "but it's serious, I tell you."

"What is it?" she asks. _Did something happen to my children?_, she wonders, slightly panicking.

"Oh, the kids are fine," he soothes, taking note of her expression.

"Well, then what is it?" America asks. _What_ is so important, but so grave, that her husband is keeping this from her?

"Come with me," he replies tersely, and starts in the direction of his office. America follows suit and he closes the door after her. He then turns to face her. "My darling," he says, taking her small hands into his, "I'm afraid we—and all of Illéa—are in danger." His wife's ice-blue eyes widen. "The Southern Rebels, France, and Germania are aiming to have Illéa fall."

America gasps, shocked. "What? Maxon, why was I not informed of this?" she demands.

He sighs. "I had to make sure, before telling you," he replies, sounding defeated.

"What's going to happen with us, then?"

"I don't know," he says, wearily, as if the news, the reality, of this has aged him. "We're planning our next move right now. However," he continues, "there is also good news."

America's face brightens, a small, yet hopeful, smile etched on her face. "What is it?" she asks, her spirit lifted slightly.

"The Caste Rebels are on our side." America opens her mouth to bombard him with a dozen questions, but he puts his index finger on her lips. "Sh, sh, not now." America promptly closes it. "Of course, the Northern Rebels are, too. Also, New Asia, Swenday, Oceania, New Europe, and Soviet Russia. Although we have the majority of the countries on our side …" he trails off.

"The opposing powers are stronger?" America questioningly finishes. He nods. "Well, then why can't we add our Palace and Illéan guards situated throughout the country, and include our new draft?" she asks. "I know that the new draft was just drafted last week, but I think that they can help, too."

He shakes his head, vetoing her idea. "That's what they expect us to do. Include our forces, so Illéa will be weaker, and so that we can be penetrated more easily."

She nods. "Good point." Maxon doesn't understand how she can be so strong, so calm, and so … serene after receiving this piece of news. As if America hears Maxon's words, she lunges at him and hugs him, wrapping her small arms around his waist, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh, Maxon, what are we going to do?" she asks, tears running down her face.

"I don't know, my love, I don't know," Maxon says, rubbing her back and comforting her. "But I promise you, I won't let you—or my kids—get hurt. The Axis Powers will regret it if they do."

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><p><strong>Yea … yikes.<strong>

**Maxon and America kinda made up … kinda. **

**Ya, as busy as heck, so no review answering today :(**

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><p><strong>*****IMPORTANT! I'm really sorry if this makes me sound like a jerk or attention-grabbing person; I'm not trying to sound like that. But … I have been noticing lately that I have been getting only one or two reviews lately … so THANK YOU SO MUCH selectionprincess59 and itsjustsam for reviewing :) I really appreciate it, guys! But, gosh, I don't know, but I kind of depend on your reviews to motive me … to ensure me that you are still reading my chapters. I guess I'm kind of insecure that way … if no one reads my work, why bother writing it? Ya, my reviews and views have gone down … so … I guess that's partly why I haven't been updatingposting as of late … I understand if schoolwork got in the way, but it's been kinda going down for quite a long time now. Man, I sound like a (synonym of) female dog. So … leaving me a review would be nice :) Thank you guys!***********

**EDIT: I just found out that my computer glitched and some reviews didn't come through to my email :/ But, I found out that SelectedDivergentShadowHunter and Dianastlyes11 also reviewed! THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS! :D**

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><p><strong>RQOTD: What is the weirdest nickname you've been called?<strong>

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 29): Demi Lovato. FOR SURE :)**

**Thanks for reading! Sorry if I came off like some needy person in my message … I'm not.**

**Happy New Year, guys! Here in Canada, we are one of the last countries to enter 2015 … :( IT IS STILL 2014 HERE PEOPLE!**

**-K**

**P.S. OH I FORGOT! I now have a google plus account ****… ****yes, google plus. If you would like to follow me ... go to my profile to copy and paste it**


	31. Chapter 31

**Um … well … this is awkward. Sorry?**

**I actually have a legitimate reason as to why I went M.I.A. for a month. I know, you're probably thinking, ****_excuses, excuses, excuses_****. I don't blame you. But, I basically got grounded because of something that I wrote (check out the last chapter of my one-shot collection titled ****_A Journey Called Life _****and you'll see why) and the computer was off-limits except for schoolwork for a while. And after the grounding was over, I screwed up my fingers. Oops?**

**Yea, but I'm back :P **

**Apologies if there are any horrific grammatical errors. I am uploading this before I got to class :P so yep, I'm typing this sentence on my phone right now ... but chill, the rest was typed on the computer :)**

**Happy reading!**

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><p>•Chapter 31•<p>

Commander Mitchell scowls when he reads the letter. "WHAT THE HEL—" he bursts out. "WHAT THE CRAP?!" he bellows, wrinkling the paper in his hands. "HOW THE FREAKING HELL DID THEY FIND OUT?!" In a few short steps, he walks to the door and flings it open, the impact of the door-to-wall collision resonating through the halls. He then storms out in a rage and, without knocking, opens the door to Peter's office.

"Come in!" Peter's muffled voice calls. Commander Mitchell swings the door open, with more force than intended.

"Peter!" The Commander rages.

"Yes?" Peter asks mildly, not at all affected by the rampaging man.

"HOW—" he stops himself, willing himself to calm down, and starts again. "How is the girl doing?" he asks, as calmly as he can, already knowing the answer.

Peter is still unfazed, although being fully aware that Commander Mitchell is pissed. "They found out," he says bluntly. No need to beat around the bush. The Commander scowls, already in a sour mood.

"Then let's hurry up and kill all of them faster," grumbles he.

Peter shakes his head. "They'll be anticipating it," he disagrees. "We have to catch them off-guard. Maybe attack at night, when the guards are at their weakest."

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><p>Kamber looks at the training room in disdain. "Do I really have to do this?" she asks her sister, whining like a three-year-old begging for candy. Ivy giggles.<p>

"Yes, you do," she replies. "It's important for everyone to know _something _about self-defence and fighting. When the time comes to fight, what will you do? Just stand there and let the spear run through you? That won't help you a lot, would it?" she points out. Her older sister groans in defeat, and slowly walks to the training room. The wall on the far left holds many weapons. Ivy grabs the bow and arrow off the wall. "Here, practice with this," she says. "I would give you a gun, but it's far too loud. And besides, it'll be useful."

She reluctantly lets her younger sister place the bow in her hands, the smoothness of the bark and the structure of the bow itself unfamiliar to her hands. She holds her bow just as her sister taught her, and, timidly, shoots. It flies through the air and the tip buries a few inches off from the centre. "Not bad," Ivy comments. "Not bad for a first time. However," she advises, "Try to direct your arm—and the bow—to the direction of your target, but don't let your arm down immediately after you shoot it. Instead, keep your arm up, and get another arrow as that one flies. That way, you can get as many shots as you can in the least possible time. And, let your arm follow through after the arrow has been released, like this," she demonstrates with her own bow and arrow.

Kamber tries to imitate her sister's actions, and the arrow pierces closer to the target than before. "Better," Ivy says, approvingly. "You just need more practice. But, you're already off to a good start. Your stance is correct," she observes, "and your aim is pretty good. Believe me, when I first started, I sot way off target. But now," she loads her arrow into her bow and shoots, "it's better. Just practice some more, Kamber, and you'll, one day, be as good as me, maybe even better." She places her bow and arrows back onto the wall. "I will leave you here to practice, okay? I will see you at dinner. Don't be late!" She calls, and exits the room.

"Bye!" Kamber calls, as the door slams shut. She stares at the closed door for a few seconds more, then blows her hair out of her eyes and turns back to her aiming.

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><p>America goes back to the Maid's Headquarters after Maxon leaves their suite, and sits on the bed adjacent to the one Charmaine is lying in, and watches the still girl. She can't leave the girl here, she decides. She mentally scolds herself for getting into all that trouble bringing her to here. After dressing her daughter up as a miad, what next? Who knows if some of the newer maids are Southern Rebels? She steals another glance at Charmaine. She looks so peaceful, just lying there. But she knows that the girl is also filled with pain, with sadness. She is suffering. From what, the queen doesn't know. But all these emotions reflect on the sleeping face of the true princess, the true sister of Cassandra. She approaches the girl. "Wake up," she whispers softly to the still figure. "Wake up, please."<p>

Shortly thereafter, a maids bustles into the room and sees the young girl laying on her bed. Fuming, she approaches the figure sitting on the bed next to the girl, her back turned towards the maid. "Excuse me," the middle aged maid starts, "but that is my bed." America turns and the maids startles. "Oh!" she exclaims, hurriedly sweeping into a curtsey. "Your Majesty, I apologize … I did not know it was you,"

America smiles. "It's okay, Celine," she says gently to the maid.

Celine bobs her head in thanks, but she asks a question, curiosity in her voice. "Your Majesty, forgive me for asking, but why is that girl on my bed?"

A sad smile passes the Queen's face, but quickly disappears. "Celine, sometimes, you have to use your judgement to judge people, not how other people tell you. You can believe only when the evidence is in front of you, not passed on, from mouth to mouth." And with that, America gently picks up the still girl, and walks out of the room, leaving the young maid to ponder over the wise words from the Queen of IIléa.

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><p>America takes the girl back to her suite. She catches sight of her friend. "Lucy!" America calls out as loud as she dares, in order to not stir the girl. Her friend spins around.<p>

"Yes, Ames?" Lucy asks.

"Where did you go afterwards?" American demands.

"Oh, after I helped you dress Princess Charmaine?" Lucy asks. America doesn't reply, her ice-blue eyes gazing steadily into her friend's soft blue ones. "I didn't tell anyone, don't worry," the younger girl says, much the Queen's relief. America lets out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "I left to ask Aspen to help; I couldn't find him anywhere, though," she says, defeated. "I wonder where he could be?" she muses, tapping a finger on her chin.

"Oh, I saw him alright," America mutters, harsher than she intended. "He almost chewed me out,"

Lucy giggles, then claps a hand over her mouth.

America frowns. "Ugh, Lucy!" she complains. Their little moment, just filled with silly talk, seemed like time had reversed itself, like America was in the Selection again, although it was almost 21 years ago. She turns serious. "Help me, hurry," she cries.

Lucy didn't need any more explaining to figure out America's request. The two women hurry along the corridors, and they finally reach the suite. America breathes a sigh of relief.

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><p>Night falls. The air between America and Maxon is still frosty, but it has, since the reveal of the impending World War Five, begun to thaw. America has put Charmiane in the nursery she used for her children when they were younger, and laid her on the nurse's cot. America allowed Lucy and Aspen take care of her daughter for the night. When Maxon goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth, America stops him. "Maxon," America starts, "About Charmaine … 's true. Please believe her. Believe me. Believe Doctor Delores. She really is the true Princess."<p>

Maxon sighs. "Mer … can we not talk about this right now?" he asks wearily.

America swallows, nervous. "Well, Maxon … maybe you can see her? Just … see your daughter, for who she is, not who the public views her as?" Amermica hesitates before continuing. "Maxon … she's in the nursery. Luce and Aspen are taking care of her."

Maxon startles. "What?"

Gently, America takes his arm and leads him down the hallway, to the nursery. I quickly rap three sharp knots on the wooden door, and slowly, it opens, revealing Aspen's face on the other end. "Hi, Mer," he says softly. "She still hasn't awoken. I think the doctor administered some drug, after knocking her out … that's why she's been out for so long."

The Queen sighs. "I hope she won't permanently stay that way,"

Aspen nods. "Me too. Come on in," he says, opening the door wider and beckoning them in.

America, still latching onto Maxon's arm, walks through the opening, her husband in tow. She approaches the cot, and strokes the girl's head, brushing the stray strands of hair away. "I won—" she starts, but her words are cut off by the alarm. The four adults look at each other in alarm, and quickly, they exit the room, Maxon reluctantly carrying the girl. They reach the main safe room, the one the Selected always tried to reach. They push open the door and trip their way down to the bottom, the guards at the base of the stairs giving them a questioning look when they see Charmaine, still clad in a maid's uniform.

They lay her in one of the cots, the one hidden away in a corner, and wait.

A few minutes pass.

Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Still no movement. "Wait," Aspen says, "her fingers—look." The other three do. And, slightly, just the tiniest bit … lo and behold! Her fingers are twitching slightly. They adults wait, holding their breath. Charmaine's eyes flutter open. She wets her lips and opens her mouth. But before any words can come out, the safe room explodes and the room is thrown into chaos and fire.

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><p><strong>Okay, sorry, guys. No review answering today. Thanks for the reviews though, I loved it! Keep reviewing! My goal is to reach 200 reviews before this story ends! I know you guys can do it! :)<strong>

**RQOTD: Which form of social media is your favourite? (Eg. Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, stuff like that)**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 30): Hm…It's a tie between Kirry and Potato. Don't ask me how these two name came about … my co-worker (lol technically we are volunteers but whatever) made up the Kirry one and my friends named me Potato. They say it's because I dress like one. Thanks, guys -_- haha**

**Thanks for reading! I'll try my best not to take so long to update next time!**

**-K**


	32. Chapter 32

**Yey, I managed to update (fairly) quicker this time! :)**

**Happy reading!**

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><p>•Chapter 32•<p>

A Southern rebel stands at the top of the stairs, a gun in each hand, each aimed at the King and Queen of Illéa. "If anyone dares to move even a finger, I will pull the trigger!" he roars. The King and Queen bite back a gasp. Suddenly, a small voice breaks the tense, fearful silence. "No." the voice says, quietly, but compared to the stillness of the room, she could've been yelling. Silence. The safe room—no longer safe—echoes her words, then falls silent once more.

The Southern Rebel pivots his foot, his head turning in her direction. His eyes narrow when he catches sight of the young blonde teen standing behind the Queen of Illéa.

"Go ahead," Charmaine says, with challenge in her voice. "Go ahead and shoot me. I have no one left that I love. Go ahead," she looks at the rebel dead on, her voice flat. "I dare you."

America holds back a gasp. _'No one left that I love'?! She really thinks that? _She thinks, shocked. _She really thinks that Max and I don't love her? Her mother? Her siblings?_ The Queen suddenly realizes, with a start, that she never got to see her adopted family after she woke up. And she may never see them again, if none of them make it out of this pandemonium alive.

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><p>Peter has to admit it; the girl's got guts. In all of the Rebel attacks, never, have there been a person who defied them like that. All of the palace workers scuttled away, afraid of the Southern Rebels, hoping that they wouldn't catch the workers, and kill them. But who cares about some little Illéan princess? As he aimed the .22 caliber—one of the last remaining guns from the former country America—at the Princess' heart, and pulls the trigger back inch by inch, he changes his mind.<p>

He won't have the bullet dive for her heart. No, he won't.

He'll make her death as slow and as painful as possible. To dig the knife deeper into the hearts of the King and Queen. He'll savour her pain, her parent's pain. He'll relish the blood pouring from the wounds, wounds made by _him_. He'll enjoy every moment of her agony. He aims the barrel of the gun slightly lower, to her abdomen.

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><p>Charmaine's heartbeat picks up quicker when she sees that the barrel is aimed at her stomach, not at her heart. She knows that the Southern Rebel wants to make her suffer for as long as possible. "Go ahead," she says again. "Shoot me if you dare."<p>

The princess of Illéa had woken up in an unknown room, at an unknown time, at an unknown place. But one thing was clear: she was in danger, as were her family. She did not know where she was, but she could still be brave and level-headed, amidst the chaos. When her lips uttered the word 'no', she knew that she was playing a dangerous game with her life.

She is shaking inside, her mind screaming for her to stop, to run, but she doesn't stop talking. She stays put. She doesn't let anyone else see her fear.

"As you wish, your Highness," the Southern Rebel says mockingly, and makes a big show of checking to see if there are bullets in the gun. Charmaine knows that his goal is to scare the Royalty, so she keeps her face placid. America's reaction, however is a different story; her eyes widen, and a little gasp escapes her lips. "Perhaps," he says, "the little princess will like it better if the gun is closer to her, hmm?" True to his word, the Rebel walks closer to the princess, and pushes the muzzle against her stomach, grasping the sixteen year old's arm in his hand, in order to prevent her from running away. Charmaine doesn't resist, although she tries not to gag, at the thought of a _Southern Rebel_ touching her, grasping her arm. Raised as a Five, she didn't really care who touched her. She constantly would play with Sixes, Sevens, and occasionally Eights, if they were strong enough, or well enough, to. She liked everyone. She didn't discriminate anyone. Everyone, except that is, Southern Rebels. They kill for no reason. They are barbaric, and far, _far_ worse than Eights.

Charmaine holds her chin high. She knows that he will not kill her; he will most likely just kidnap her and hold her ransom. She looks at the man holding me with hatred. He, in return, smirks and digs the barrel of the gun deeper in her stomach.

Suddenly, new sounds of chaos reaches the ears of the Illéan people in the safe room. The Southern Rebel stiffens, and turns around, his grip on the girl never slacking. Charmaine turns, too, and following the Southern Rebel's gaze, her placid expression slacks and her jaw drops in surprise.

A hoard of Palace Guards are descending down the staircase, with fruitless attempts by the Southern Rebels to stop them. The unexpected attack throws the Southern Rebels into confusion. The Palace Guards, taking note of this, use this opportunity to their full advantage. They wield their swords and mini-guns upon the dazed men, and their ends are met. All, except for six. Unfortunately, Charmaine's captor is one of the remaining. Another man holding her family at gunpoint is one of the surviving, also. Turning his head, eyes no longer on Char, he narrows his eyes at the Illéan Guards. With some discreet signal, simultaneously, four Southern Rebels (aside from Char's captor, who is still latched onto her) lunge at the Guards, who respond by dodging, parrying, and striking continuous, yet unsuccessful, blows on their opponents.

Charmaine, taking note that the man's grasp loosening, yanks her arm free, and runs away. But she only makes a few metres before something heavy and muscular falls on top of her. Char wriggles a bit, and laying on her side, and stared at the man who had halted her escape. A set of vicious-looking eyes stare back at her. The Southern Rebel. Her captor.

"Thought that you could escape me so easily, did you, little girl?" He taunts, a twisted sneer on his face, clasping his large, meaty hand around her neck. "You wanted to get away so easily, _Princess_? Oops," he says, mockingly. "What should I do to you now?" He pretends to be in deep thought, tapping a finger on his chin. Char wheezes out a breath. The weight is too heavy for her to bear, and the hand restricting what is left of her to be able to breathe doesn't allow much air to pass through, either. "Oh! I know," he grins like a maniac, his eyes hungry. Hungry for blood. For death. Her blood. Her death. He places the barrel of the gun against her forehead, finger on the trigger. "Say goodbye to your family, this world, and your life, little girl."

Charmaine closes her eyes. _He's not going to kill me, he's not going to_. She repeats over and over in her head. _He's going to capture me for ransom. How much, I don't know. The Southern Rebels want power. Money. They will give it to him. They will want me back._ She opens her eyes again, repeating the words over and over. She tries to make eye contact with her family. Maxon, who had somehow gotten hurt in the attack, most likely protecting his family. Cassandra, who is comforting her younger brother, ten-year-old Shalom, who appears to be trying not to cry. Spencer, who looks stunned. America. The Queen looks over just at that moment, and holds their gaze, never breaking eye contact. She forces a small smile on her face. Black spots start to fade in and out of her vision.

There is a yell, breaking Char out of her silent mantra, and the heavy weight is lifted off her chest. She gasps out a deep breath, and relishes the air flowing into her lungs. The Southern Rebel knocks the Palace Guard off him, and pins her down once more. He digs the gun into her stomach once more, the finger, for the third time, on the trigger, ready to pull it.

Char realizes that he, in his haste, forgot to pin her legs down. With all her might, she kicks the Rebel right in a man's biggest weakness.

His private part.

He howls in pain, and as he falls onto his side, with two Illéan Guards running over, ready to kill him—or knock him unconscious so later, they can interrogate him, she doesn't know which one, in a wild attempt, he pulls the trigger. The bullet whizzes past her, a mere inch or two off her arm, and ricochets off the safe room wall, and embeds itself into the chest of another Southern Rebel. The one holding her family at gunpoint. He crumbles to the ground, unmoving. America immediately starts to run over to her, leaving her children with Maxon.

Char is shocked. He was actually trying to kill her. She covers her mouth with her hand, trying to hold her tears in. _How could I be so stupid, so naïve?_ She wonders. America reaches her and puts an arm around Char. She doesn't speak, but holds the girl, comforting her with America's presence.

One of the guards who captured—or killed—Char's captor walks over. Char opens her mouth, to thank him and the other guard for helping her, for saving her from the clutches of the Rebel. When he raises his head to face the mother-daughter duo, Char immediately shuts her mouth.

The guard who saved her is the one person she carries immense hatred for. The one person who partly got her in this mess.

"Liam."

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><p><strong>Drama's sure going to ensue from this, hmm?<strong>

**Reviews (for Chapters 30 and 31)**

**EruditeAbnegationMockinjay: Thanks! And yea, I think all of us are glad :) And awe, it's okay. Thanks! **

**Fairy not princess: Thanks! Sparky? For some reason the first thing that popped into my mind was: Jason Grace (from Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus). Is that a bad thing? Lol. Thanks!**

**TwinkleTwinkleHaHa (2): I love the name change! And man, that's mean. If that's one of the reasons why you broke up with him, I can see why. No offense to him. Instagram? From what I've heard, it's better than Facebook. According to my buddies. I don't have an account :P Thanks! **

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter (2): *evil grin* you'll see. Muhahahahaha. I know, I'm evil, right? (: I bet you are even more mad now that you read his chapter. Am I right? Lol. Thanks!**

**SportyJpoo: New reviewer! Yay! Thank you for the compliments! Here is the new chapter :) Thanks!**

**Guest: Yep, Imagine Dragons is awesomesauce. Thanks!**

**Okay, so RQOTD: Have you ever rage quitted?**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 31): I really don't know. I don't use that much social media, aside from fanfiction . net and Google Plus.**

**Guys, we're (kinda) close to hitting my goal of 200 reviews! Keep reviewing! :D**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	33. Chapter 33

**Hey!**

**Okay, bad news. I have a new school class thingy starting in March/tomorrow, so I will not be able to update as quickly anymore. Perhaps once to twice a month, if I'm lucky. :(**

**Happy reading!**

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><p>•Chapter 33•<p>

"Char," Liam says softly, something like … gentleness? … in his voice. "It's good to see you again. I"m sorry about what happened earlier this week. You okay? Did you get hurt?"

"Cut the crap, Hendrickson," Char snaps, all traces of her shock gone. "And no, it's _not_ good to see you. You're the reason I landed myself in this stupid situation in the first place! Should I thank you for that? Give you a reward? I sure think you deserve one!" she continues, sarcastically. "Besides, _of course _I'm fine. I just almost got murdered, and before that, I nearly got executed ... thanks to you, may I add. And before that, I almost got my head chopped off. So yea, _of course _I'm fine; thanks for asking...! You—"

Char is cut off by a firm hand laying on her shoulder, effectively stopping her words. "Charmaine, that's enough," Maxon says quietly. "We should get to safety. Remember, just because we're safe this time doesn't meant that we will next time, too. There are still more Southern Rebels rampaging around in the Palace."

Char nods, understanding the urgency in her father's words. "Where should we go, then?" she inquires. "The Rebels already found out this Safe Room already, though!"

Maxon shakes his head in reply, putting a finger to his lips. "Follow us, okay, Char? I really don't know if you really _are_ a part of the Royal family, or this entire thing is just a huge miscommunication, b—"

Char opens her mouth to protest. "But I _am_," she insists.

"—but even if you aren't, you're still coming with us. You just woke up from that terrible coma; I'm sure you don't want to fall into another one. You deserve to live, Char. We all do. So, regardless of your true identity and such, you're coming with us. Understand?" Maxon turns to tell the guards stationed in various part of the the Room

Char nods. "Yes, sir." she responds.

He stops, and turns around. "One more thing. Char, please, _don't_ call me 'sir'. Call me Maxon. 'Sir' sounds so formal, and it makes me feel old."

"Okay … Maxon." Char says, the sound of calling her country's king—and not to mention father—by his first name strange and foreign on her lips.

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><p>Ushered by a dozen guards, the Royal Family travel through many of the hidden passageways in the Palace. They finally arrive at one of the little-known safe rooms … only to be met up with a party of Southern Rebels, all their faces concealed by black masks, showing solely their eyes and mouth. "Well, well, what do we have here?" One of them says maliciously, brandishing a gun. "The entire family of Illéa, a dozen guards, and oh! The famous lost Princess of Illéa! Pleased to meet you, your Highness," he says, sweeping into a mocking bow. "I've heard quite a lot about you!" Immediately, the swarm of Southern Rebels surround the Royal Family. Many of the Guards surrounding them make no move to stop them. However, the select few that try to prevent them from capturing their Majesties and Highnesses are shot in the chest. They slump to the ground, unmoving, with blood spilling out from their wound.<p>

Char's eyes widen in horror. Those Palace Guards are working for the Southern Rebels. One of them, a girl, smiles, sensing Char's realization. "Oh, yes, we sure are working for them," she giggles a little. "I'm quite surprised that you never noticed."

"Yasmin?" America whispers, in shock and fear. "_You_? _You're working for them_? But … maids aren't supposed to be guards … or acquire Guard uniforms."

"She sure is! And so? So what if we're maids? We can still steal them from dead Guards, you know." Another Rebel, also a female, steps out from behind Yasmin.

"Jenny?! I—"

America's words are cut off as the Rebels surround them. "Enough of this chit-chat," he snaps. "Go!"

They create a human barrier between the children of the Crown and the adults—and the Crown Prince and his wife, Toria. The two groups split up, forcing the King, Queen, Prince Adrian, and Princess Victoria down one fork, and Shalom, Spencer, Cassandra, Prince Zachary of France (Cassandra's fiancé) and Charmaine down another. America and Maxon scream for their children, and suddenly, their cries are cut off. Char hopes that their voices haven't been silenced forever. Shalom and Spencer _need_ their parents. Char knows that losing one parent at such a young age is terrible, but two? Unbearable. Becoming orphans at such a young age is simply too cruel.

They walk for about twenty minutes more, and coming to a stop at an exit door, one of the pushes it are escorted out of the Palace in a rough manner, and suddenly, the offspring of the King and Queen of Illéa and the French Prince find themselves blinking in the bright sunlight. "Keep walking!" One of the Rebels say, not in a voice full of malice, but not kindly either.

They walk. Through the palace grounds and into the forest. They walk for hours more.

And finally, finally, they arrive at a house shaped from a cave.

"Get in."

They obey, and to everyone's surprise, the house is furnished and tidy, with not a speck in sight. Spencer, the youngest Schreave, plops on the one of the nearby couches, exhausted. "Don't try anything funny," one of them warns, "or else you'll lose your head before you know it." He starts to close the door, then changes his mind. "Charmaine, come with me. Now." Char is shaking inside, but refuses to show it as she reluctantly follows the man, and perhaps her doom.

She is led to another house, not far off. This one is drastically different from the one her siblings and future brother-in-law are currently residing in. _This _house is dirty, unkempt, and gross. A foul-smelling odour rises up from the moldy couch. "You, stay here," says one of them. He looks to be around her age, with honey brown eyes and a tint of an accent in his speech. German, perhaps?

"But before you can, we ought to interrogate you," says another. A chorus of 'yea!'s and 'good idea!'s ring out from behind the man.

"Maybe we can torture her," suggests one.

"No," he replies, glaring at him.

"Why?" asks he. "I don't see a problem."

Ignoring the presumably lesser-ranked Rebel, Char's "Interrogation Rebel" points to a couple Rebels in the crowd. "You, you, and you. Come with me." Keeping a firm hand on her arm, he drags her away from the crowd, and deeper into the forest.

* * *

><p>"So!" he smiles triumphantly, after coming to a stop, around twenty minutes later. "Let's talk here! Let's begin, shall we?" he grins. "How much do you know of our plan?"<p>

"No," Char says, and crosses her arms.

"'No' as in you don't know much, or you don't want to answer?" questions he.

"Why do you want to know?"

He guffaws. "This one's feisty," he comments. "She'll make a good Southern Rebel, don'tcha think?" he turns to his fellow comrades.

Char glares daggers at the man. "You little—" she snarls, but is cut off by the man rushing at her, attempting to pin her down, to capture her. She falls to the ground with a thud. The Southern Rebel gets hold of her maid's uniform and hauls her to her feet. _Kick the kneecaps. It will cause the victim immense pain_, she remembers Terri, the Caste Rebel saying, from her days at the Compound. She aims her feet at said location, and with all her might, rears back and hits the kneecap. A satisfying cracking sound erupts, followed by a string of curses from the man. He releases his hold on the girl and clutches his injured knee. Char tries to flee.

Another Rebel intercepts her escape. "Not so fast, little girl," he snarls, and for some reason, his voice sounds familiar. In a wild, desperate, and unaccounted-for attempt, she pulls off his mask.

A familiar face faces her. Doctor Abernathy. Char can't move. She can'. She can't. She is stunned. Knocked off guard. Doctor Abernathy.

The very doctor who tested for her DNA.

The one who gave her the news that Therese is the real Princess. Not her. Speaking of Therese … No. Char shakes her head. She clearly has more important things to focus on than that girl.

Him. He is working for the Southern Rebels.

Suddenly, his face contorts into one of pain, and crumples to the ground, releasing his hold on her. Char looks up in surprise.

A woman, in her mid-twenties, has a gun aimed at the now-unmoving Doctor. "You alright?" she asks.

"Who're you?" Char croaks.

She simply smiles. "Hazel Grattan, second-in-command of the Northern Rebels, at your service."

* * *

><p><strong>If you have no clue who Hazel is, I advise that you go to Chapter 27 to check. And yes, I realize that there are two Hazels: Grattan, and Toria's mother. I didn't notice until now. Oops?<strong>

**Reviews: **

**SelectedDivergentShadowHunter: Thank you! And I don't know what to do, either! Haha, thanks!**

**Guest: Wow, what a looooong review! Lol, "tiny superhero girl". I don't know why I laughed so hard at that :P. And aw, don't hate her. Remember, she got held at gunpoint, and she's more careful now. She's an adult. She has more responsibilities, as Queen of Illéa. She can't be so reckless. And remember, America has only known Char for a little while. So her instincts to protect her aren't as strong as her protecting the other kids. Okay, I will try my best :P And no sappy speeches, got it. I hate those too! "Official Reviewer of Selection Stories"? Nice title you've got there :) Thanks! And hahahahaha, I'm not a lady … at least, I surely don't act like one. I'm a hardcore tomboy ;) Your review made me laugh harder than I should have. I think that's partly because of the candy I ate earlier … Yes, I get hyper easily. Thanks!**

**TwinkleTwinkleHaHa: OMG YAAAAAS! I totally get how frustrating it is. Thanks!**

**DystopianAddict (2): First off, yey, new reviewer! AND THANK YOU SO FREAKING MUCH for following favouriting this story (and me, but I don't want to sound narcissistic). And awe, thank you! And wow, you're the first person who ever mentioned that! Good observation! Haha, thanks for the compliment! Thanks!**

**Okay, RQOTD: Do you get hyper easily?**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 32): Yep. Math, and as said earlier, video games. Math is simply frustrating and video games … Oh, don't get me started … I will have ****_a lot_**** of things to rant about video games. Ask at your own risk. You've been warned! **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**


	34. Chapter 34

**My new class isn't really helping with my creative writing skills. I mainly have to write essays for homework, and as you know, essays need to have ****_information_****, not ****_descriptive_**** words. For example, if my essays were descriptive but lacked information, I would get a terrible mark. Soooo … if my writing skills have deteriorated as a result … apologies. **

****** In the last paragraph separation, where it is from Sherri's point of view, it happened ****_before_**** the attack. So, yea, if you're confused … this is the explanation *******

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 34•<p>

Commander Mitchell kicks his chair across the room in frustration and fury. "What do you mean, my spy has been found out?" He demands, as a Southern Rebel Messenger scurries away, having finished his duty. He crumples the paper and throws in across the room. Taking a deep breath, he crosses the room, retrieves the letter, and reads on.

_To: Commander Mitchell_

_From: Therese (via Courier 46)_

_Dear sir,_

_I regret to inform you that your spies have been found out. One of them, at least. I am not clear about the others. Unfortunately, it has been confirmed: Queen America no longer believes me to be her daughter. I know not of where King Maxon's beliefs lay. Your strategic attack has worked, however; their Majesties and their children have been separated. I do not know where the children have been taken, but I am aware that the King and Queen are confined to their chambers. I am afraid that I will be discovered, so, alas, I shall end this letter. More news will follow._

_Sincerely,_

_Therese Tudor_

"How many times do I have to tell the girl to _not_ call them 'their Majesties'?" Mutters the Commander.

"Perhaps it is the way she grew up calling them, regardless whether or not she felt that she deserved that title, sir," says a soft voice at his elbow.

He turns around, hand flying to the holster—a result of many years of training. It is a reflex, one engraved into his mind. "When did you come here?" he asks, surprised. "And how did you manage to approach me without me hearing it?"

Therese looks startled. She has never heard him compliment anyone before. Certainly not her, at least. "Thank you, sir," she says. "I assume the reason you did not hear me is that because you were so absorbed in the letter in your hands."

"Speaking of which, why did you send this letter to me, and then appear a few a minutes later?" inquires the Commander.

"I actually sent this letter around two days ago. I don't know why you only got it now," answers Therese. "Would you like me to get the Courier so you can find out, sir?"

Commander Mitchell waves it off. "No, it's fine. Now get along, girl. I have some major planning to do," he orders.

* * *

><p>Char stands, immobile. "The Northern Rebels?" she whispers. "I … I thought that they disappeared! I mean, not disappear … I mean, I thought that they were kind of … dormant in a way. Because they became the Special Guard in the Palace of Illéa."<p>

"That's what everyone thinks, ma chère," explains Hazel. "That, actually, is correct. It's common knowledge that we never disappeared, but not many people know a Northern Rebel when they see one. But we are still around. As you can see, I am standing right here, in front of you."

"'Ma chère'? Forgive me for interrupting, but what does that mean?" questions Char.

"It is a French phrase, meaning 'my dear'. My grandmother came from France, so she taught my mother the language, who in turn, taught me." Replies Hazel. "Anyways, as for now, we have temporarily separated from the Palace Guards of Illéa. We aren't acting on their orders for now, and the Northern Rebels are acting on our own accords. We do not necessarily have to take orders from them, and they don't for us. The Northern Rebels have allied with the Caste Rebels, and both groups are now spread across the country. We have to protect the citizens, find the Southern Rebel base, kill some stragglers should the need arise, and in the meantime, try to find the children of their Majesties. They are with you, correct?"

"I think so," answers Char slowly. "They were, for quite a while. I hope they're still here. I left them a while back."

"Oh?"

"The Southern Rebels separated me from them once we reached the circumference of this area. That was around twenty or so minutes ago. I haven't seen them since."

"Okay," says Hazel, "do you remember the direction you came from? Before coming here?"

She nods. "I remember the general idea."

"Good," Hazel says briskly. "We can follow your trail, just in reverse. I just wanted to know if you knew just in case there are multiple trails." She inspects the ground. "Okay, do you remember which direction from which you came from with the Southern Rebels?"

Char nods, turning in a full circle, eyes scanning the area. "I think ..." She says slowly, "they dragged me here from that way." She points to a medium-sized elm tree.

Hazel nods. "Alright. Let's go. Who knows if the Southern Rebel are going to come soon, since their comrades didn't come back."

* * *

><p>"Yep, they are here." He confirms, looking at the crowd gathered beyond the bush concealing them. His eyes peer through the crevices and holes in the leaf, sounding satisfied, having finally found their foe.<p>

"Are you sure it's them?" asks his comrade, crouched beside him, sounding unconvinced.

"Yes," answers the first spy, annoyance clear in his voice. "I'm sure. Take a look yourself if you're so skeptical."

He quickly peers through the bushes. "Okay, it's them, all right. Let's take them down. The sooner we are finished with this, the sooner we can stop the Axis Powers."

* * *

><p>"Charmaine!" A voice cries. "You're safe!" The person hurls herself at Char and Hazel, as the duo near the clearing where she first left her siblings and future brother-in-law.<p>

"Cass?" asks her twin sister in surprise. "How did you get out? And," she looks around, frantic, "where are the others? Are they safe?"

"Funny story, actually. Okay, not that funny. Anyways, we were all sitting there in the cave-room, as still as statues. They told us that we had to be silent. So, we were all unmoving—I mean, come on, none of us wanted to get our heads blown off!—when suddenly, there was a large commotion outside. We didn't dare move, not even make a sound, though I could tell that Shalom was really itching to see what the heck was going on. We all were. But we didn't dare hope that we would be freed. Besides, they could be more Southern Rebels, for all we knew. But after ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed, I decided to peek out the window. So, even though everyone was begging me not to, I pulled the curtains apart and … found a very bloody lawn in front of me. The Rebels got massacred, Char. They were dead—every single one of them. Against their protests, I snuck out the window—who knows if there's a dead body near the front door?—and stole off. I told them to cover for me if more Rebels came. Like, during the commotion, I was sitting near the window and got shot by accident, and one of the shooters grabbed me. I even smeared some blood on my "seat" by the window to make it more realistic." Cass' voice radiates proudness at her idea. "After that, I was wandering around, checking to see if there were any more Rebels, and then saw you," she finishes.

The duo are silent for a while. "Wow," says Hazel, at last, admiration in her tone. "That must've took guts."

"Oh, yes, that did," confirms the older twin. "But risking it was better than sitting there, right?"

"You know, we should switch clothes," says Char suddenly.

"What?" asks Hazel, confused.

"Oh, no, not you, Hazel. I mean 'we', as in Cass and I." Explains Charmaine. "Cass, you're in a _dress_. A floor-length nightgown, but still a dress nonetheless. It'll be pretty hard to run in a dress, would it?" she points out. "Maids actually wear a pair of shorts underneath their skirt, and a blouse underneath their cardigan.. So, I think that you should wear my skirt—I'm fairly sure you've run in a skirt before—and my cardigan. That way, it'll be easier for both of us to get around."

Hazel and Cass nod, comprehending. "But what will we do with my nightgown?" Cass asks, sounding unsure of her sister's idea.

"Um … Hazel, do you have a knife?" Asks Char. Said woman nods. "Well, we can cut your nightgown … cut it at the waist, so you won't be so cold. Just discard the skirt portion, I guess." suggests Char. "Here," she says, taking off the cardigan and skirt from her maid's uniform and handing it to her sister. "Cut the nightgown below waist level. And change into the stuff. I'll turn around." She does as she said, and continues, "then afterwards … maybe after we get the others, we can head back to the palace?"

A while later, when the sun's rays start to peek out from the horizon, and daylight starts to stream into the forest, the small group consisting of a Northern Rebel, four Schreaves, and one French Prince, set off towards home, fully knowing the dangers that lay ahead.

* * *

><p>"Mummy?" Sherri whispers in the dark. "Are you there?"<p>

No answer.

Then, suddenly, a voice breaks the silence. But not the warm, caring, loving, motherly voice the eight-year-old Carrington wanted to here.

"Heh, heh. Lookin' for yer mother, eh?" cackles the voice. Judging by the sound and depth of it, Sherri can tell that it is a man speaking. "Yer mother is gone."

"Gone," murmurs Sherri. "What do you mean, 'gone'?" she asks, panic and fear rushing in, and volume rising up in her voice.

"Gone," repeats the man. "Yer mother's cell is empty, li'l girl."

Despite the grave scenario the eight year old is in, she says defiantly to the man, "I'm _not _little!"

"Oh, stop it, Harold," another voice says, just to the right of Sherri's arm. It's a woman. "Quit pestering the girl." She steps out of the shadow, to reveal an average looking woman, with brown hair and blue eyes. To Sherri, she says, "Honey, you may be in the wrong section. I'm not sure if you know, but the jail has three sections. They're all separated by concrete walls, and you can't go from one section to another without leaving the room. You have to exit the room and enter another door. I'm a guard here at the palace, as is Harold, so I assure you, I _know_ what I am talking about. Harold, he just likes to crack jokes. Or pester people. He is a real guard, I promise. Anyways, I can probably lead you to whichever section your mother is in. What does she look like?" asks the female Palace Guard.

"My mummy is taller than me, has black hair and green eyes. Her name is Kamber Carrington, and she looks like my uncle." Replies Sherri.

"And who is your uncle?" prompts the woman, taking out a stack of papers.

"Uncle Aspen! You know him, he's the head of the Guard or something!" declares Sherri proudly.

"Um … okay," the woman draws out, clearly not prepared for this piece of information. She flips through her stack of papers, holding, presumably, all of the prisoner's information sheets. She finally pauses at one of them and slides her finger down to the middle. She frowns, then bites her lip, her eyebrows furrowing.

Finally, finally, she says, "Honey, are you sure that your mother was taken here?"

She nods. "Yes! I talked to her just last week."

The woman frowns again, staring intensely at the page, and then proceeds to flip through a few more. After a while, she looks up. "I don't know what happened, honey, but your mother isn't listed here. As far as we know, she never might've even existed."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, if you are confused about the time placement from the last scene (the one in Sherri's point of view), it happened BEFORE the attack—the most recent one, that is. Yes, I know that I said that already. Another time won't hurt, right? ;)<strong>

**Reviews:**

**Fairy not princess: Thanks! Yea, that's weird. Usually, when one is really tired, they would be sleepier, right? Thanks!**

**DystopianAddict: Okay, I'll go over to your story and read it :) Nah, it's fine. And don't worry about having "only" two reviews in your story. As long as you write it from your heart, and know that ****_you_**** wrote it to the best of your ability, then it'll be okay. The number of reviews don't define your story. The number of follows, or favourites don't, either. Nor do the number of views. Thanks!**

**AND OH MY GOSH WE ARE CLOSE—SO CLOSE!—TO HITTING THAT GOAL! KEEP REVIEWING GUYS!**

**RQOTD: Do you know what was so special about March 14, 2015? **

**Answer of RQOTD (chapter 33): Oh, yep. I get hyper a lot. Usually when I eat lots of candy, 95% of the time, I get hyper. Yea, it's a bad idea to give me candy LOL!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	35. Chapter 35

**I've tried to upload quicker this time :) And, like the last chapter, the part from Sherri's point of view occurs ****_before_**** the rebel attack. Yes, she's up in the middle of the night, I realize that. She's a rebel child, I guess ;)**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 35•<p>

"Mummy exists!" insists Sherri tearfully. "I _know_ she does!"

"Oh, honey, I know she does!" exclaims the woman. "What I mean is that since she isn't listed here. I'm sorry, honey, I should've thought how terrible that sounded before saying that. Basically, what I mean, darling, is that it is unknown to us Guards that she was even jailed."

Sherri nods, comprehending. "Oh." She simply says.

"Come on," the kind woman says. "Let's go." She offers her hand to the young girl.

Sherri slips her hand into the woman's large, rough, calloused outstretched hand, and together, they walk down the dark halls of the jail. "Hmm …" muses Sherri. "I wonder where, um, Harold went?"

"He's probably off to another section of the jail," replies she. "We all patrol different parts, of course, and, if my calculations are correct, it's his turn to guard Section C."

"Oh" is all Sherri returns.

They turn another corner, and Sherri stumbles upon something. "Um, officer?" says Sherri tentatively, not really knowing what to call the woman.

"Yes?"

"Why is there stuff laying around on the floor?" questions Sherri. "It's pretty dark in here, and someone can easily trip on it. I almost did."

The woman's eyebrows fly up. "Oh?" she murmurs. "We usually don't have debris lying around … Harold must've dropped something, that careless man. I don't know how heavy it is. I'll get it out of the way, okay," she says, and realizes that she doesn't know the girl's name, "uh, what's your name?"

"Sherri."

"Sherri, and you'll stay behind me, okay?"

She nods.

The woman moves in front of the girl and bends down, hands out to push the object out of the way. It is heavier than she expects. She feels fabric wrapped around the object, feels firm, and it is slightly sticky. "_What_ is that?" she mutters.

After pushing it out of the way, she pulls out her flashlight, and clicks it the switch to ON, curious to see the object. She suddenly gasps, horrified, and drops the flashlight. It hits the floor with a loud thud and continues to shine its beam onto the object. "What is that?" Sherri asks, curious, peering around the officer. The officer quickly tries to cover the eight-year-old's eyes to shield her from the gruesome scene that lies before her, but it's too late.

Sherri has already seen it.

* * *

><p>The sound of shattered glass rings throughout the hallways. Screams are cut short. America sits on their bed, unmoving, staring at the wall. Maxon hovers over her, his brown eyes glancing worriedly at his wife. "America? Ames?" he asks, attempting to have her talk. "Please, my darling, talk to me," he pleads.<p>

"How will getting me to talk help our children?" America finally speaks, her voice flat. "I just feel so helpless, just sitting here, while who-knows-what has happened to our kids."

"Well …" Maxon says slowly. "Perhaps you can start with telling me about that girl." He coughs into his sleeve, the cough causing his shoulders to shake.

"Her name is Charmaine," corrects America, "not 'girl'. And," continues the Queen, "why don't you believe her?"

"Don't you think it is a little fishy, her coming here, and then a few weeks later, POOF!, another war starts to spark?" replies Maxon. "I mean, maybe she was lying this whole time."

"I don't think so. I felt that connection when I first interacted with Char. It felt similar to the bond Cassie and I share, but not as strong?"

"Why wouldn't it be as strong? And maybe it's a psychological thing. Perhaps you were so desperate to believe that she's your daughter, that you willed yourself to feel it," Maxon points out, his voice soft..

"No," America replies, shaking her head, "I felt that connection _before_ she told us, Max."

He doesn't reply.

"I know that this seems like kind of a weak point, but … she _looks_ like us. Looks like her twin. Her brothers. With her honey blonde hair from you and her blue eyes from me … she looks like a Schreave." Suddenly, she gasps. "And … wait. Remember, after Cass was born, but the other twin was still inside of me, the nurse told me, 'Oh, Your Majesty, I see her blonde hair! Push, miss, push!'? She couldn't have been mistaken! And I _know_ what I remembered!"

Maxon was looking out the window, but after his wife stopped talking, he turns his head to her, appearing to be interested.

"Maxon," America says firmly, walking over to where he sits, reaching her violinist's hands out and gripping her husband's shoulders. "Charmaine _is_ the true princess. Please, believe that."

The Queen continues on, feeling more and more confident with every word. "Don't you think that it's a little fishy," she uses the same words Maxon used earlier, only to defend a different person, "that Char comes to tell us about her identity, and later, Therese comes? In such a short while, maybe three or four weeks? It's like Therese waited for Char to come, before appearing herself. It can't be such a coincidence, you know, two girls claiming the exact same thing. And it was Therese who suggested the DNA test, remember? Perhaps she could've switched the results around. And the dye that I found … her real hair colour is brown. I looked that the roots of the strands of hair in her comb."

She pauses, taking a deep breath.

"And about the connection thing ... I never felt that connection with Therese." she adds. "Speaking of her, where is she?" America wonders to no one in particular. To Maxon, she questions, "Well, then why are you so sure that Therese is our daughter, not Charmaine?"

He still doesn't answer.

"Max?" America asks.

He opens his mouth, in an attempt to speak, but no sound comes out. "Max?" America asks again, worry seeping into her voice. "What's wrong?"

He simply shakes his head, and suddenly, an alarm comes through. But it is not the rebel alarm, since they already are in the palace. The fire alarm. As if on cue, smoke starts to seep through the tightly shut door of their suite. Within seconds, the room is full of the hazy smoke. Covering their noses and mouths with their sleeve, they quickly run to the balcony doors, and attempt to open it, with no avail.

They are trapped.

* * *

><p>Sherri can only stare at the figure on the ground in horror, frozen.<p>

A middle-aged man lies before her, his uniform covered in blood. His blood. His throat is cleanly split open, in a bloody "U" shape, like a bloody, grimy smile. On his chest lay a single piece of thin, white paper.

The woman gingerly picks it up. She reads:

HE'S THE FIRST ONE.

AND HE CERTAINLY WON'T BE THE LAST.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and the ceiling starts to crumble. Rocks are falling everywhere, some on prisoners' heads, others crashing onto the stone ground.

Sherri screams in terror at the chaos, and her cry is cut short when a rock, slightly larger than the size of her fist, flies towards her and finds itself a home in the side of her head.

* * *

><p><strong>If you can find the Hunger Games reference in this chapter, I'll give you a shoutout! <strong>

**Okay, sorry, not review answering today. I'm really busy :( As well, apologies that this chapter was shorter than most. I'll try to make the next one longer :D**

**RQOTD: Name one thing you eat that many of your friends find strange**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 35): Yep, it was Pi Day! My dad ****_loves_**** math and was kinda disappointed that we didn't celebrate it or something, lol**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	36. Chapter 36

**Another chapter! And it's longer, this time, too! :) Oh, and yea, guys. It was Spring Break, so I could update faster. However, next week, school starts again, so updates will resum every other or third week.**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 36•<p>

The woman drops onto her knees amidst the chaos, and with one hand protecting her neck, and the other reaching for a gun, she pushes away the body of her former co-worker. She sees the little girl—Sherri—slump to the ground, and, with rocks everywhere, tumbling all around the woman, she hurries to the young child, a few feet away, and, sliding the gun back to its holster, picks the girl up. The side of her head is slick with blood. Trying to dodge all the large rocks, the ones that can cause major harm, she sprints to the door … only to find two men blocking the entrance. "Well, well, what have we here?" asks the taller one, a heavy accent prominent on each of his words.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way," the woman snarls.

"My, my," says the other, faking shock. "A female guard? That's a first."

"And oh! a child?" says the first one. "What's her name?" Stepping closer, he fingers her natural black ringlets. "Pretty curls," he comments. Scrutinizing the woman's brown locks, he adds, "I guess she got them from her father?"

The shorter one laughs … if a snort can count as a laugh, that is. "Ha! Good observation, Falke," he says. "What's your daughter's name?"

"Shut it. She isn't my child," she hisses. "And get out of the way."

"Just because you order us to doesn't mean that we will, pretty lady," says the one the woman calls 'Shorty'. "We'll move when we feel like it."

"Move. Now." Adjusting the girl's position in her arms, the woman pulls out her gun, cradling Sherri with the other. "Don't make me shoot you," she warns.

"Oh, you won't," scoffs the one called Falke. "Women are _much_ too soft to hurt anyone, much less kill someone. Besides—"

He is stopped, mid-sentence, with the fire of a gun. The bullet buries itself into his chest. Shorty's eyes widen, coming to the realization that this woman means business. He turns to run, but fire explodes in his chest, and he drops to his knees. The woman slides the gun back to its proper place, and runs to the stairs, her back to the jail cell. She needs to escape. She needs to help the girl. The girl has to live. The guard leaps up the stairs, taking two at a time. She reaches the top, and without pausing, she turns to the right and tries to run into the forest. Suddenly, people in uniform surround her. Not palace guards, however. Not her comrades.

People from the Axis Powers. She already recognizes their symbol, having seen it on the note, and Short and Falke's uniforms. A circle, with six lines sticking out from the centre.

They immediately seize the girl from her arms, and shoot her twice in the leg before she can react—or try to wrestle the girl back. Pain explodes from the spot as blood pours out.

The Axis Powers, as quickly as they came, melt back into the shadows, this time, with Sherri in their possession. She tries to run after them, but with no avail. Pain shoots up her leg regularly. She remembers, back in her days of training, her teacher, Officer Aspen Leger, would remind her endlessly, that sometimes, it would be best to sit down, and think of a plan, rather than acting without a plan. She drags herself out of the building, one painful step at a time, and, sitting behind a bush, concealing her entirely, she rips a piece of cloth in an attempt to stop the blood from gushing out. It works, but the woman wonders how long it will be before the cloth is soaked through.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to the sky. "I'm so sorry, Sherri." She never got to tell the girl the truth about her mother's whereabouts. That the woman the girl talked to, once a week, late at night … it wasn't her mother. Her mother had been freed a few weeks back. Or escaped, somehow. Sherri never knew. She thought that whoever the voice was, was her mother. Not an imposter.

And she might never know now.

* * *

><p>In desperation, Maxon and America, holding their breaths in an attempt to avoid inhaling the fumes, grab nearby chairs, and slam it against the glass on the balcony doors, with its white frames and glass on the inside, and a gold trim lining the edge of the frame, between the wood and the glass. Over and over, until a crack appears. They hit it many more times. The glass finally breaks with a terrible shattering sound, and America winces involuntarily. Being perfect pitch doesn't really help, either. Most of the glass flies out, onto the balcony, but some of it bounces back, sinking into their flesh.<p>

The smoke is visibly thickening now, and America finds herself having trouble breathing, her breaths coming out in short gasps, despite her trying to take in as much oxygen as possible. Her eyelids are beginning to droop, and her body is longing to just lay down, and have a rest. America, fully knowing that those symptoms are a sign of smoke inhalation, fights the urge to rest—and probably die.

No. She has to live.

Picking up her chair one more, she slams it on a weaker part of the glass. It breaks, and finally, the hole that they made is large enough for one person to go through. America says, "Maxon, You go out first," and breaks into a coughing fit. Her husband shakes his head, and in one swift motion, grabs her by the waist, and hauls her to the hole, half-pushing her in. His momentum is too great, and America finds herself tumbling through the hole, and onto the other side. The glass shards cut into her skin, but she barely registers it.

He follows suit, and they breathe in the fresh air—air they haven't breathed in what felt like years. America says, breathless, "Maxon. We have to get down. We're climbing down." Without another word, America deftly rips away a large chunk of her nightgown and throws away her robe, leaving her in only two layers, rather than the five to begin with. She jumps to the outer edge of the balcony, and finding a large pipe with corks and screws large enough to be footholds, begins to climb down. She glances up to assure herself that Maxon is following her.

When she nears around six feet above the ground, she lets go and jumps to the ground, stumbling slightly.

Without waiting for Maxon, she runs to a nearby corpse, dressed in a Guard's uniform, purposely avoiding to look at the corpse's face—she knows that she might know him or her, and might break down upon seeing his or her face. She can't risk that happening. She finds the buckle of their belt, removes it from the corpse, and straps it on herself. It has some bandages, tweezers, gauze, and cotton balls, flashlight, emergency food and water, a gun, cartridges, a small hunting knife and dagger. Beside the person, laying in a pool of red, lies a rifle. She picks it up, and sweeps her eyes for another corpse with a full (or close to full) belt. She finds another one, and removes its belt, turning it upside down, to quickly take some of the supplies. She takes some more emergency food, cartridges, bandages of all different sizes, and another hunting knife. She bites her lip, contemplating whether or not she should take the gun, and as a last minute decision, takes the gun and hides it underneath her dress, fitting it underneath her bra strap, after checking to see if the safety is on.

She looks up to see Maxon dressed the same way as her, except his gun is hidden underneath his lightweight jacket, in an inside pocket. They simultaneously break into a run, each gripping their rifles, and shoots every rebel in sight. Her aim is pretty accurate, although she knows that sometimes, she had missed, and that the rebel had been altered that someone was nearby. She aims her rifle at a nearby Axis soldier, but her aim is slightly off. The bullet embeds itself into the tree nearby. He whips his rifle to the general area of where it was shot, but he is too late. By the time a bullet whizzes into their area, the King and Queen of Illéa are already long gone.

* * *

><p>They trek through the forests until the sun is high up in the sky. Shalom grumbles, "Are we there yet?", possibly for the thousandth time.<p>

Hazel turns around, her brisk step never faltering. "Patience, Prince Shalom. We will be there when we are. Keep walking, _comprende_?" she slips into French. Noting her language change, she says in English, "Understand?"

He nods.

Suddenly, a shout comes from behind the group. "Axis!" The voice yells. Hazel's eyes widen. "Guys," she says urgently. "_Run._"

Without another word, she breaks off into a run. The other follow suit. "Faster!" she yells. "They're onto us!"

They sprint, full force, running through bushes, getting scratched by tree limbs, tripping over rocks, splashing into mud. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. They need to survive.

Finally, finally, one by one, they begin to tire out. Hazel finally stops running, and comes to a halt. "We're near the palace," she announces, her voice ragged. Spencer and Char stop and rest on their knees, panting, drops of sweat glistening on their faces. Glancing behind her, she adds,"I don't think they're close, but let's keep walking."

They arrive at the clearing, near the garden. The Schreave kids, with a sudden burst of energy, run into the garden. Spencer stops in his tracks, seeing his parents armed with guns. "Mom? Dad?" he questions the King and Queen of Illéa. "What's going on?"

* * *

><p>"It's not safe!" cries she. "You can't go!"<p>

"Of course it's not safe!" another voice yells. "It's a war!"

"I _know_ that!" exclaims the first one, irritated. "I'm well trained! I can protect myself. But you …!" her tone softens. "You haven't been here, as a Caste Rebel, as long as I have, Kamber! I don't want you to get hurt!"

Kamber answers, "But Ivy … my kids are in the Palace. I want to see them, make sure that they aren't hurt. I haven't seen them in what feels like forever." She pauses, shaking her head. "I'm not so sure that you understand, Ivy. You've never been a mother before. I have. And believe me, sister … Your kids are your number one priority. You love them to death. And you'll do anything, just to make sure that they are safe, and secure."

"But—" Ivy begins.

Kamber holds up her hand. "No buts," she cuts in. "I'm going. I've been training every single day for around three weeks already. I think I will be able to hold my own. And," she continues before her little sister can object, "you know me. I won't do anything rash."

Ivy sighs. "But what if you get hurt? If you fall in battle? Who will care for your kids? Speaking of which, _who_ is taking care of them right now?"

"America and Maxon. Char made them promise to take care of them." Kamber replies. As an afterthought, she says, "And I know, for one, that America is responsible, and _will_ live up to her word … unless she changed drastically over the years. Then I can't say." Turning back to their previous topic, Kamber pleads, "Please, Ivy … let me go."

"Kam—"

A sharp whistle suddenly pierces the air. "Okay, everyone, listen up!" The leader of the Compound yells. People stop in their tracks to listen. Kamber and Ivy temporarily halt their argument. "I recieved a message from Commander Vincent. He says that the enemy's numbers are far greater than he imagined, and far more dangerous. He needs all the help he can get. So, everyone, let's go! Grab your weapons and gear, and meet me in the back. We'll travel through the forest. That way, we have a greater chance of protection." People start to leave the large, cool room to retrieve their gear and weapons, but the leader stops them. "Wait. I'm not done. He also says to send in around fifty troops to go around the rest of Illéa—Carolina, White, Yukon; areas like that. He says that most of the war will be happening in Angeles, but of course, the Axis Powers will have their soldiers situated in the other parts, too." He pauses, looking at the piece of paper. "Oh, and some of the German and French troops have landed here." He adds. "So, the fifty that will go to other parts of the country will meet up with some of the other people from other compounds, and a third of the soldiers from New Asia, Swenday, Oceania, Soviet Russia, and the rest of New Europe will also join you. Understand?" he asks.

"Understand!" the crowd replies.

Ivy sighs. "I guess I can't say no, then. Since Commander Vincent asked for _everyone_ to go."

"Alright," he says, as the crowd begins to disperse. "Good luck, and we'll see you again, whether it is after the war, or decades later, when we go to an eternal sleep."

* * *

><p>"Thanks for pretending to be that little girl's mother," says Commander Mitchell, to a hooded figure standing before him.<p>

"Oh, it was nothing," the figure dismisses it with a wave of her hand. "However it was really cramped in there, and smelly and … Ugh!" she shudders. "I sure don't want to go back there again!"

He chuckles. "My, my. For a Southern Rebel, you sure are picky."

She snorts. "Good job observing, Mr. Obvious."

"Excuse me, my last name is _not_ 'Obvious', Miss L." He feigns a complaint. "I—" Suddenly, footsteps echo down the hallway, and the door to Commander Mitchell's office is flung open. The Commander immediately smothers his casual side, and becomes the uptight, strict, and respectable—or feared?—Commander everyone is accustomed to. "Yes?" he asks the visitor coolly. "What is it?"

"Commander," he says breathlessly. "We need more forces. Some of the United Powers' troops have arrived." Settling his eyes on the hooded woman, he adds, "and sir, I think having some women dressed as Sixes—or Sevens—will help. They can carry their knives and guns underneath their clothes. Miss," he says, turning to the figure, "I think you'll help greatly. You are an exceptional fighter."

She nods in acknowledgement to his praise.

"You may go now," he tells the messenger. To his guest, he says to her, all traces of casualness gone, "Get your weapons and the clothes that a Six or Seven would wear." He laughs suddenly. "And I hope you won't be afraid of killing your family if you need to."

The hooded figure cracks a smile. "No, sir. I won't."

* * *

><p><strong>Yea, so <strong>**_that_**** happened. Who do you think is the mysterious hooded figure? Tell me in the reviews!**

**RQOTD: So, One Direction's Zayn left the group. What was your reaction when you found out? **

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 35): I love love LOVE Green Tea/Matcha. My friends think I'm weird. Oh well**

**Sorry, I'm in a bit of a hurry today. I'll answer them in the next update! I promise!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-K**


	37. Chapter 37

**I feel really bad for not updating for so long! Sorry guys! I had a lot of homework :/**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 37•<p>

The Commander of the Southern Rebels strides down the grey stone hallways of the Base, looking purposefully for a particular family, a large bundle in his hands. "Ah," he says, stopping at one of the cells, and setting the bundle behind him. Peering in, he says to the parents, "your daughter has done her deed well. But, not well enough." He laughs a mirthless laugh. "You'll have to wait another year or two before you can return to your beloved Columbia home. When we've won the war against Illéa and the United Powers." A twisted smile make its way to his face. "That is, if you don't end up dead before you can leave." He adds, the sick grin still on his face.

One of Therese's sisters—probably the youngest one—lets out a gasp, and buries her face into her mother's stomach, her arms circling around the older woman. The woman stares at the Commander in horror. "Commander Mitchell …!" she exclaims, aghast.

Ignoring Mrs. Tudor, he turns around, and untying the strings of the bundle, brings out a plate of food for the Tudors. He fumbles for the key to the jail cell, and upon unlocking the entrance, the door swings open with a loud creak. "Here's your meal," he says, sounding bored, handing the large plate to eager hands.

And with that, he steps out of the barred room, locks the door, and leaves.

* * *

><p>"We need to fight," America says calmly, once the Schreave children and the French Prince reach the King and Queen.<p>

"Why?" questions Shalom, the youngest child, his eyes wide.

America sighs, closing her eyes. Her hands fly up to her temple, as if doing the action would make this disaster fade, dissolve into nothingness. Maxon takes this as a sign to take over explaining, and kneels on the ground, so he and his ten-year old can see eye-to-eye. "There is a war," he explains, his brown eyes sad, and face lined with worry. "People are going to die." He looks away for a second, then resumes his conversation with Shalom. "I don't want you to know, but you should. Illéa might fall. We might lose everything. People will die. That is inevitable … meaning, well, 'unavoidable'." He explains. "If we need to survive, we need to fight. We all do. Here," he hands Shal a gun he picked up from a nearby corpse, "take it. You'll need to protect yourself with this. You guys," he tells the others, "arm yourselves. It's best to have at least two weapons ... say, a gun and a knife. And of course, if you have a gun, make sure it's loaded, and that you have a spare cartilage. I assume you all know how to use a gun?" He inquires.

The three Schreave children, Char, and Prince Zachary nod. Turning to the Northern Rebel, Hazel, he says to her, "Thank you, miss, for keeping my children safe."

She replies, "It was no problem at all, Your Majesty. We have to win this war, and we Northern Rebels know that keeping the Schreave children safe, unharmed, and uncaptured will play a large role. Oh, and Your Majesty, on behalf on the Northern Rebels, I can say that we will go to any extent to make sure that we _win_ this."

America inclines her head at Hazel in thanks. "Thank you. What should be our next move? Fight or flight?"

She ponders for a while, then replies, "Well, it truly depends on your survival instinct. How well do you think you can fight? Or hide? It's different for everyone. How well have you been trained to fight? Or can you hide yourself better, blend yourself into the crowd, into the background? Can you survive with little food and water, with little shelter and clothing? Hide in such circumstances for four, five years? You may have to hide that long."

"Well," Char starts, hesitating at first, "I _have_ lived and trained with the Caste Rebels for a while. Maybe four, five weeks? I, though not as experienced as other Rebels, can survive well on my own."

"And my children has learned how to survive up to a week in the forest, without any clothing or food, or weapons, thanks to Silvia, their tutor. Although I know that if we hide, it will be more than a week, we can still use our knowledge to survive." Maxon adds. "I think we can survive, either way. Which way do you think will be more likely for us to survive?" he asks the Northern Rebel.

"Well …" Hazel murmurs. "I suppose we _can_ fight. If we hide and be safe while everyone else in Illéa's lives are in danger, you wouldn't be wonderful rulers. You'd appear to be selfish and concerned only for your well-being. I know that you are afraid of putting your children's lives in danger, but if you hide, you may be branded as selfish, and cowardly. As well …"

As she continues talking, a shadow behind her detaches itself from the trees and walk over to Hazel. She doesn't notice, as she is occupied explaining to the Schreaves. In a swift motion, he whips out a sword, and quickly buries the blade into her back, the sword buried to the hilt, the tip of the blade protruding from her front. Her eyes widen, and her legs give out, and she crumples to the grassy ground, her face forever frozen into one of terror. Shocked, the Royals jump back, and one of them lets out a scream. Charmaine recovers first, placing her finger on the trigger, and upon steadying her aim, fires. The bullet hits Hazel's attacker's chest, and he, too, falls to the ground, unmoving.

Without another word, in an unspoken agreement, they run.

* * *

><p>Therese flattens herself against the wall, her heart pounding, hammering so loudly against her rib cage that she is sure that those Palace Guards would catch her. <em>Stupid, stupid, stupid<em>, she berates herself. That was so stupid, the stunt she pulled earlier._ That was a terrible idea._ They caught her in the act of slaying one of their fellow Guards. She barely escaped their grasp.

Heavy, pounding footfalls interrupt her silent scolding. She scoots further into the corridor, and upon seeing a small crease in their otherwise immaculate walls, she is filled with hope. Hope that she can hide, and avoid being caught. Hopeful that her thin frame will be able to fit in there, she makes a run for it, trying her very hardest to make her steps soundless. Therese hunches her shoulders and tucks her arms and legs in, and discover, with relief, that the crevice has some room left over, for her to move. Seeing a nearby painting, fallen on the floor, its glass covering shattered to pieces. Reaching a skinny, olive-toned arm out, she grabs the corner of the painting and heaves it over to cover her location.

One minute later and she would have been discovered. Just as the opening closes completely, a voice calls out, just directly in front of her, "Where is she?" he demands.

"I don't know," another voice responds. "I think she went that way."

"Let's go!" the first voice says.

As their footsteps fade away, Therese breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. After waiting a minute more to confirm that they are gone, she slides out of her hiding place, and pushes the painting away, careful to not cut herself on the glass. She steps out, straightening up, and finds herself face to face with a Palace Guard.

Therese swears.

* * *

><p>Kamber walks along her sister and another Caste Rebel, Terri, her hands positioned lazily on the gun; one hand on the trigger and the other supporting the gun as a whole, passing tree after tree, bush after bush, shrub after shrub. "So," Kamber says after a while, "where are we?"<p>

"We're on the border of Angeles and Whites," replies Terri.

Silence envelops them once more.

A shrill scream suddenly pierces the air. Terri, Kamber, and Ivy stop in their tracks, Terri stiffening before turning around, Kamber's hands tightening her grip on the weapon. A black mass jumps on top of Ivy unexpectedly. Ivy screams, her hands frantically scrabbling for her gun. Kamber tries to help her little sister, but another man clad in black jumps on top of her before she can move, his arms encircling her, holding her in a tight, unwanted, hug. A third lands on top of Terri. He wrenches her gun away from her, dropping it a few feet away. She's now weaponless. Her mind races. She knows she can't risk shooting in his direction, as she might hit one of her comrades. Seeing that a hand is clamped over her mouth, she bites the finger closest to her teeth. Hard.

He lets go for a moment, letting out a cry, screaming, "You bitch!", a torrent of colourful words pouring out from his mouth like poison. His hands close around her once more, before she can move, his arms slithering around her like a predatory snake Kamber's back facing his front. She sees Ivy fighting off her captor, and Terri doing the same to hers. Remembering something she once saw Terri do in an attack, caught in a similar position like her, she jerks her head back and slams the back of her head into his face—perhaps making contact with hopefully a nose or mouth—and hears a satisfying crack, followed by another string of curses, words so foul Kamber can_not_ believe her ears.

He stumbles back, and the loosening on his grip is all Kamber needs. She spins around, and knowing that reaching for her fallen gun will cost her seconds, she whips out a small knife from her weapons belt, and slashes out with it. The blade slices deep into his side. He grabs for her again, his right hand outstretched, and his left covering the wound, his nose bloody. She spins away from him, and quickly, with movement so quickly even Kamber herself can't believe it, drives the blade into his chest.

He falls backward, unmoving.

Victory.

Suddenly, as if everything that has happened in the last ten minutes finally came crashing down to her, she drops onto her knees. She _killed_ a human being. She. Killed. A. Man. A hand suddenly rests on her shoulder. "Kam," Ivy looks down at her, worried. "What's the matter? If you're feeling guilty about killing that rebel, don't be. If you didn't, he would've killed many more innocent people. Think about it," she smiles at her older sister, "you prevented many more lives from being cut short."

Kamber stays still for a second more, then gracefully gets up, onto her feet. She nods, her expression guarded, and picking up her gun and retrieving the bloody knife protruding from the dead man's chest, she starts walking. "Let's get out of the forest and protect the people of Illéa," she declares.

* * *

><p>Running through a forest never is easy. In a dress, the bottom torn into shreds and the blood of the fallen, weighting one down with every step is even harder. America, stopping, setting her gun between the side of her neck and shoulder blades to keep it from slipping, she bites her lip, then finally tears the bottom of the floor-length dress, so that the bottom reaches the top of her kneecaps.<p>

She quickens her speed, to catch up with the others, the gun returning to her hands. Soon, they reach a clearing. Telling the children to stay put while they step forward, they part the leaves and poke their head in, peering between the leaves to ensure the lack of danger. Maxon and America's eyes widen.

"Oh my gosh," Maxon whispers.

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think they saw? Tell me in the reviews!<strong>

**And as I promised … answers to the reviews! :)**

**SelectedDivergentShadowhunter: Awe, thanks for the compliment :) And ya, you got that right. Pi day! Did you know that we won't have another Pi day that has 3-1-4-1-5 until March 2115? You probably figured that out, haha :P Thanks!**

**DystopianAddict: Yep, it sure was! Thanks!**

**DystopianAddict: Lol, honestly, I never realized that I wrote a similar part to Clove and the rock thing :P So yea, I guess that can count :) What ****_was_**** intentional, however, is the Wiress' throat slit into a bloody smile :) Thanks! **

**baaacooon: New reviewer! Haha, I literally had to triple-check that I got your username right! And I love our username :) Hmm, you'll see. Soon :) Thanks!**

**RQOTD: WHO'S EXCITED FOR 'THE HEIR'?!**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 36): There are three types of people: those who are really sad, those who are happy, and those who go 'shemurr?' (iisuperwomanii reference!) because they don't know who the heck Zayn is. I put myself in the third category. So, long story short, I am indifferent. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**


	38. Chapter 38

**Sorry for the late update! I made this chapter longer … ish :)**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 38•<p>

Headless bodies. Bodiless heads. All strung up high, in the trees. Blood pooling everywhere. America closes her eyes, trying to erase the gruesome memory, but the horrifying image still remains in her mind.

Maxon draws in a sharp breath. "What," he demands, "the crap happened?"

"Isn't it obvious?" America murmurs dryly. "They got murdered. Probably by the Axis Powers. Most likely, actually."

"But aren't they just regular citizens?" Maxon points out. "See, no uniform; just ordinary clothes."

Suddenly, a small rustle come out from behind them. America and Maxon whip around, and visibly relax when they see that it is just their youngest, Shalom, behind them. "Mom, Dad, is it safe to go out there?" he asks.

America shakes her head. "No, Shal," she tell him. "It's not safe. We'll have to continue running. Quick, get the others." Her son scampers off.

She and her husband bend down, securing their weapons. "There wasn't anyone in the clearing right? Um, I mean, alive?" Maxon confirms in a low voice. America nods her head. As they start to stand up, a hand roughly grabs onto her upper arm. America is too shocked to even scream. She knows that it isn't Maxon. A harsh voice hisses in her ear, "Stand up, drop your weapons, and don't scream, or else I _will_ kill you." Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Maxon held in the same position.

America reluctantly places her weapons on the grass and slowly stands up, trying to buy some time. _Oh no_. She realizes that her children will be coming any time now. She hopes with all her heart that they will be careful, and not rush into things, and result into them getting caught as well, just as they had discussed earlier.

But she doesn't have to worry. Her children are watching silently, concealed by the bushes. They know that they can't rush out, and risk getting caught themselves. A few hours ago, they agreed: if one of them are caught, none of them can rush out to help them. It is hard, she acknowledged, but it is best for them—and the country. As long as the Princes and Princesses of Illéa—any one of them—are still alive, the Axis Powers can't grab the throne.

Her captor prods her forward. America stumbles forward. They walk slowly, America trying to think of an escape plan of some sort. They walk into the clearing, and out the other side. The woman holding her hostage makes an impatient noise, and snarls into the Queen's ear, "Walk faster, damn it!" A hand reaches out, holding an unidentifiable object. A sharp object pricks the side of her neck, between the base of her neck and her collarbone. "That's right," the captor continues, "walk slower and I _will_ draw blood. And don't you _dare_ think that this is an empty threat. I _will_ do it." As if to make her point, the sharp object pierces her skin, and a drop of blood trickles down.

She reluctantly speeds up. They exit the opposite edge of the clearing, and keep walking.

They walk deeper into the forest.

Deeper.

Further away from her Illéan home.

And still they walk.

But the voice of her captor … so familiar, but she couldn't place a finger on who. Something tugs at her mind, someone she knows she _knew_—or encountered—before, but who? _Think, Ames, think!_

Thinking hard, her captor prodding America to walk forward, a gun positioned on the Queen's back, she mulls it over. Suddenly, it clicks.

* * *

><p>Char swallows a lump in her throat as she watches her birth parents get led away by the Axis Powers. She knows that what America said is right, but she feels guilt. Guilt, for not helping them. Guilt, for watching silently. Guilt, for not intervening. Guilt. It is eating away at her.<p>

Her fingers ache. She looks down, and to her surprise, sees that her knuckles have turned a startling white from clutching the neck of Spencer's shirt too tightly, to prevent him from running to his parents.

They all want to help. But they can't. Even Prince Zachary of Swenday. They are, after all, his future parents-in-law. But perhaps not for long.

Finally, her parents disappear from their sight. Cassandra finally collapses onto the mossy ground, tears forming in her icy blue eyes. Her twin lets go of their little brother's shirt and bends down to comfort her older sister. "Cass," she murmurs, "They'll be alright. Mom is a fighter, and Dad is a survivor. They will make it. We have to hope."

"Why?" Cass cries out, her voice choked. "Why did that stupid son of a—a—a b—"

"Language, Cassie," Zachary interrupts softly.

She stops short, staring at her fiancé with wide eyes. "No." She says stubbornly, sounding very much like her mother. "She deserves to be called a bitch because she _is_ a bitch. _WHY_ DID SHE HAVE TO TAKE MOM AND DAD AWAY?" she yells, her voice rising to a scream with each word.

"Cassie, Cassie, Cassie," Char tells her sister sadly. "Is there any use if we sit around and weep? I know that our parents have been taken, but moaning and screaming will not help. We will have to continue on, without them. But hey," she points out, "if they don't make it, and that's a big _if_, since they both are fighters; at least they will die knowing that we love them. Come on," she rises up to a standing position, holding a hand out to her sister, "let's fight, and make sure that those people who died back at the palace's deaths were _not_ in vain."

Her sister takes her hand and heaves herself up, and together, side-by-side, sister and sister, the two royal Princesses of Illèa part the bushes, and step through.

* * *

><p>Terri abruptly stops in her tracks upon nearing a mass of seemingly intangible bushes, causing Kamber, who's situated directly behind her, to bump into her, unable to stop in her tracks in time. "Oof," she mutters, regaining her balance.<p>

"Shh!" Terri whispers sharply.

A female cry, one full of pain, suddenly fills the air. "No! It can't be!" The voice gasps. "No. No. No!" The volume rises with each 'no'. Kamber pales. The voice, so familiar. The voice she has heard for sixteen years. Chattering about her friends, complaining about practicing a particularly difficult piece on the piano, yelling in frustration when try after try, she still can't get over the break in the clarinet fluently, or play a particularly high note without squeaking.

The voice she knows as dearly as her own.

"Char?" she breathes. Ivy, sensing what she is about to do, gives her older sister a look.

"Kam—" she starts, warningly.

She pays her sister no heed. She bursts through the bushes, sticks and thorns scraping her arms and legs, ignoring her sister's protests, and comes out of the other side. She sees her second-oldest child kneeling on the ground, her face buried in her hands, weeping. Another strangled sob tears from her throat. Checking to make sure that there are no Axis Powers or Palace Guards hovering nearby, she approaches Charmaine. Another girl, around Char's age, sits beside her, her face downcast and distraught.

Kamber's footsteps quicken. Char pays no heed. "Char," Kamber murmurs, reaching out to console the sixteen-year old.

Her daughter lifts her head up, her eyes quickly widening in recognition. "Mom!" she cries, throwing her arms around her embracing her adoptive mother. Suddenly, she draws back. "What are you doing here? It's too dangerous! You'll get killed, like … like …" She can't seem to finish, tears brimming her eyes once more.

"Like who?" Kamber asks gently, rubbing her daughter's back.

"Jake! Sherri! Chase!" She screams in agony, her voice hoarse. "Mom," she whispers, lifting her ice-blue eyes to gaze at her mother's emerald-green ones. "They're … dead." Her voice catches on 'dead'. "Look," she says, her voice flat and void of any emotion.

Kamber follows her gaze, and puts a hand over her mouth in shock once she sees her dead children, her own flesh and blood, strung high up in the trees.

"Surprised?" A voice behind her, filled with dry humour, asks.

* * *

><p>"Daphne?" America asks the black-clad, masked figure behind her. "Is that you?"<p>

"That's _ Queen Daphne_ to you, your Majesty," she spits, her French accent showing. She finally stops walking, and to the other person holding her husband hostage, she murmurs, "Arrête." _Stop_. She pauses of a second, appearing to be deep in thought, and says something else to him in French rapidly, a phrase America can't catch.

He halts, and, pulling out a length of rope, quickly ties Maxon to a thick tree, covered in knots. She grabs her own length of rope from her uniform pocket and fluidly binds America's hands together with a certain flair. "There," she declares with a certain triumph, ripping her face mask off. "Now I can talk in peace, without having a disgusting mask to get in my way, as well as without having you struggle and be a nuisance."

America says nothing; she doesn't know _what_ she can say that will not cause the French Queen to kill her.

"I've always hated you," she continues on matter-of-factly. "Never did I like you. I've always dreamt of ways in which I could get you out of my way and make Maxon mine. I never did like my husband, let alone love him. Camille's fine, I guess." Her daughter.

She smiles suddenly, an eerie smile. Her finger traces the thin white scar on her wrist. "But now, that all ends today. My husband's dead—oh, I didn't kill him!" She says, noting the horrified expressions on America and Maxon's faces. "He—he died. Of an illness. Anyway, enough of this. I joined the Axis Powers so I could kill you, America Schreave," she informs the Queen. "Officer Baker, if you will."

Queen Daphne's fellow comrade steps forward and removes his mask. "I'm sorry, your Majesties." he says, not meeting their gaze. Officer Timothy Allen Baker, one of the highest-ranking guards at the palace. Helping _the Axis Powers._ He passes the French Queen a knife, and steps back, his eyes glued to the ground.

Daphne laughs, and after weighing the knife in her hand, throws it at America's heart. But it never reaches her. Instead, it strikes the chest of another person.

The betrayer. The knife's hilt protrudes from his right lung, another knife in his right hand. Straining he pulls the knife free, and shakily throws in at Daphne. It sinks into her stomach. With the last of his strength, with a sweep, he breaks America's binds with his knife. "Sorry …" he whispers with the last of his strength. "Threatened … family … no choice." His eyes close. "Please … forgive …"

* * *

><p>The woman is losing blood quickly, she can feel it seep through her wound. She knows that she does not have much longer to live. The girl. Sherri. She prays that the little girl is safe and unharmed. She will try to rescue her … <em>after<em> she feels more rejuvenated, when her wound has closed. She closes her eyes, for just a second, and when she opens them again, she sees her mother.

The sight of her mother brings a smile to her face.

"Mother?" she asks tentatively. She reaches out to touch her mother's face. "I thought … you were dead!"

_I _am_ dead, sweetie._ Her mother's voice echoes in her head. _I have been for the last ten years,_ she adds, her voice tinged with sadness.

"But … but why can I see you, then?" she asks, bewildered.

_Take my hand, and I'll show you. _She offers an outstretched arm towards her daughter. _Take it, if you wish_.

"I have to help fight. My duty. I have to save people." she protests. She shakes her head. "No."

She struggles to grapple for the gun, the lone action draining her energy. Her body has lost its will to fight. But it's still in her, she can feel it. She closes her eyes, and whispers, "Sherri?"

_Dead._ Her mother replies. _I'm so, so sorry._ All the fight drains out of her. She has failed. The little girl is dead, despite her attempts to save her.

The woman opens her eyes once more, only to see the war raging in front of her. Her mother's outstretched arm is still there, and finally, takes her mother's hand.

* * *

><p>"Reed?!" Kamber bursts out in shock. "<em>You<em> did all this? How _could_ you?! Your own nieces and nephews."

Reed sighs, looking mildly bored. Shrugging, she says, "This is for the good of the country. Even Commander Mitchell agrees."

"Mitchell?" Char repeats in disbelief. "Oh!" Realization dawns on her. "You're with the Southern Rebels! You're with the Axis Powers!"

"Why, Reed, why?" Ivy cries, approaching her older sister. "Why did you have to do this?"

"Ivy, _listen to me_," Reed insists, grabbing the 28-year-old's shoulders. "_We_, the Southern Rebels, are the better rulers of Illèa. _We_ can make this a better country. This is a war! People are bound to die! So why couldn't it be our nieces and nephews? Join me, Ivy; stand by me as we win this war, as we make Illèa a better nation."

Cass makes a noise, a cross between a snort and a laugh.

"No!" Ivy shrugs off her sister's grip. "I refuse!" Drawing a sword from her scabbard, she aims it at Reed Leger.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the girl beside Char covering shielding her younger brothers from the gory, bloody sight.

"You won't kill me," Reed says confidently. "I'm your sister."

"No," Ivy disagrees. "You _were_ my sister. Not 'are'. You've turned into a monster. I don't know who you are anymore. And you said that killing Jake, Chase, and Sherri are 'for the good of the country', correct? Well, so is this." She thrusts the blade toward the 35-year-old Reed and drives it home. Her sister's face morphs into one of surprise before she collapses to the ground, dead.

"I'm sorry," Ivy whispers.

* * *

><p>Touching her aunt's shoulder in a sympathetic gesture, Char tells her, "We should avenge their deaths. Not just my siblings', but everyone else's, whose lives have been cut short by the hand of Aunt Reed." Raising her voice, addressing the crowd, she adds, "We should fight, and when this is over, rebuild Illèa, a <em>better <em>Illèa, one with no castes. But first, we have to fight; defeat the Axis Powers! We can_not_ be cowards, and risk being the defeated! Who's with me?" she shouts.

* * *

><p><strong>Only 2-3 chapters left! :P<strong>

**Interestingly enough, I didn't get any reviews for this chapter. But chill, I'm not mad at you guys :) **

**It's my brother's birthday today, so I'm in a bit of a hurry to write this A/N. **

**RQOTD: Would you rather hang out with your favourite author for a day, or your favourite singer?**

**Don't forget to leave me a review!**

**See you next time!**

**-K**


	39. Chapter 39

**Hi guys! **

**Sorry about the late update. I was extremely busy (AUGH FINALS ARE COMING UP! *dies*) and I made this chapter extra-long just for you lovely people! Y****ou guys deserve it! :)**

**AND EEK WE MADE IT TO 200 REVIEWS! When I got the 200****th**** review, I was literally bouncing in my seat. And … my classmates were staring at me like I was nuts. Maybe I am :P So, SHOUTOUT TO FANFICTIONATIC! She is the 200****th**** reviewer! Yay!**

**Also, my friend helped me with one of the scenes in this chapter! Thanks girl! :)**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•Chapter 39•<p>

- 2 years later -

_Run. Fight. Hide. Run. Fight. Hide._ This has been her mantra for quite some time now. Years, perhaps. She doesn't know how long she has been living like this. She lost track of time a long time ago. But judging by how much her brothers have grown, she will wager that they've been separated from their parents for probably two to three years. Yet the scarce amount of food each person can intake a day has made them—all of them, especially the boys—appear thin and haggard, and on top of that, for her brothers, not be able to grow to their full potential.

Small movement brings Char out of her thoughts. She tightens her grip on her gun, and leaning forward, squints to see if there are any Axis Powers around her area. A small fox hops by, followed by a few more. Char slumps back, disappointed. It has been a long day, and honestly, one quite boring too. A figure dressed in black stands underneath Char's tree. He or she flashes the United Powers insignia to her, as well as a subtle action, signaling that she can climb down now, and that he or she will take over keeping watching. She carefully climbs down the tall tree, nodding to the person in acknowledgement once she is on solid ground. Char slinks into the bushes, where her family, along with half of the United Powers she spoke to so long ago, are camping. Her eyes automatically search for her twin sister, before realization sets in. Again. The pain is so fresh, it feels like it happened yesterday …

* * *

><p>The two of them were on their rounds, patrolling the area, when Cassie spied something suspicious. She and her sister agreed to split apart, Cass going off course to check it out, and Char continuing to patrol. They would meet up at camp.<p>

So they separated, and all went well with Char's route. Suddenly, she bumped into another United Powers soldier. It was getting dark, so she couldn't see his or her face, but the soldier fluidly did the signal indicating that he or she was an ally. On the other side of the bushes, the two of them heard a scuffle going on. A muffled scream broke the eerie silence. They silently agreed to go check it out; it could be an Axis Power and a kidnapped citizen.

The moon shone in that spot, as it was near a river, and to Char's absolute horror, it was Cass, her very own sister, who was the victim. She was captured by an Axis Power, presumably, her wrists held together by one of the man's gargantuan hands, and it seemed like one of her legs was broken. She looked up, and met her sister's horrified expression with a look of fear in her eyes. _Save me_, they seemed to say. _Help me. Free me_.

"Stop!" Char yelled at the person, impulsively. "What do you think you are doing?!"

He or she swung around, and growled, a low sound in their throat. "Giving her what she deserves, of course," he snarled, his English tinted with a … French? … accent. "Who are you, to question my actions?"

"I—" Char began, but her ally interrupted her.

"Well, who are you?" The United Powers soldier asked the man.

Char twisted quickly to the right to look at her ally. _Liam_? She thought in surprise. _What is he doing here? Isn't he with the Palace Guard? Wait … I was patrolling the area with _him_ and I didn't even notice?!_

"None of your concern," the man said gruffly. "She is a danger to all of Illéa. Her family ruined us all when they never gave us what they promised."

Char began to feel a little confused. Was the man an Axis Power or an angry citizen?

"Sir," Char started, timidly, turning to the man, ignoring Liam's fruitless attempts to stop her. She had to save her sister! "I understand what you mean. I truly do. You see, sir, I was once struggling to survive with my family. They _have_ done wrong, I agree, not eliminating the castes, but let this innocent girl go. Yes, I may realize that she is a part of the royal family, but she wasn't even born yet when their Majesties King Maxon and Queen America announced their would-be shattered promises."

"What, so you support the royal family, even after all that they have done to you?!" the man sneered. "Pathetic." He faced them, fully. The moon reflected on his front, and clearly, Char and Liam could see the Axis Power insignia.

Without thinking, Liam yanked out his handgun and shot it at the man. He, being stronger than Cassandra and perhaps foreseeing this situation, forced Cass onto her feet, standing directly in front of him, basically having her act as his human shield. The bullet slammed into the other twin's chest. Cassandra Schreave screamed in pain, and the man released his grip on her completely. Cass fell onto the ground with a thud, her left hand falling over her chest. Liam Hendrickson looked on, shocked.

"Cass!" she screamed, forgetting all protocol and everything else she had learned. Her sister, her twin, her other piece, was severely injured, and saving her was her top priority right now.

She ran to her twin sister, and pulled her gently into her lap. "Cass," she whispered, reaching out to grasp Cass' right hand, as if that action alone would heal her older sister. "Where did it hit you?"

She removed her left hand from her chest, her hand slick with blood. Cass' blood. Char's eyes widened. "Oh no," she breathed, horrified.

"Char," Cass murmured, barely audible. She then proceeded to say something Char couldn't quite catch.

"What?" Char questioned, leaning closer.

"Char … the guy who was holding me hostage. Get him … 'fore he gets away," she reminded her sister softly. _Oh, right_. Char had forgotten all about him.

Quickly, she fished out her gun, and saw that Liam had managed to hold him hostage, but was unable to subdue him. She quickly shot the right side of his ribcage, mostly in revenge for capturing her sister and hurting her, and he fell limp. Liam looked up at her in silent thanks. She glared a death glare at him in response.

Turning back to her sister, she saw that Cassandra had grown deathly pale in the thirty seconds Char turned her head to kill the man. "Cass," Char cried, her voice more urgent now, "_where_ did the bullet hit you?"

"Here," Cass said, pulling her tattered blouse apart, indicated where the steady stream of blood flowed out. It had punctured her lung, probably.

"Oh, Cass …" Char said quietly, forlorn. "It's okay. We'll patch you up. You'll be okay."

"No … Char, I'm dying." Cass whispered. "I can feel it. I'm losing blood too quickly for me to heal the wound and replace the blood. No, Char. I'm dying. One of my ribs are broken, too, I think. Liam's bullet caused the broken rib to puncture my lung as well."

"Cass! No, you can't die! Please! You're my twin, my sister, my other half!" Char cried, alarmed. "We had just reunited after sixteen years of being apart! You can't leave me! Not so soon!"

Cass shook her head. It was clear that that action alone required a lot of effort. "Char … my dear sister, I'm sorry. I don't have the strength to pull through." She smiled weakly. "I won't live to see this war end. But you will, I believe you will. And since you are my other half, when you see the war over, I'll see it too. Tell the kids, Mom, Dad, and Zach that I love them, okay?"

Tears slipped down Charmaine's face. "Cass, don't leave me so soon. Please!" she pleaded.

"Hope, Char. There's still hope left. We, the United Powers, _can_ win this war, and we _will_." Cass whispered, struggling to breathe. "Fight and survive. Forgive Liam. It was an accident. My only regret … is that I couldn't meet you sooner. Goodbye, Char." Then, she added, "Never forget me. And, Char …always … remember … who you … are," she finished, drawing in a ragged breath, blood leaking out from the corner of her mouth. Then she closed her eyes, and breathed her last.

Char sat, stunned. "No," she whispered. She frantically began placing her hands on Cass' neck and wrists, hoping, _hoping_, to find a pulse—no matter how faint. She found herself screaming her sister's name over and over in agony.

Cass' eyes remained closed, her heartbeat silent.

She gently laid her sister's head on the grassy ground, and kissed Cass' forehead. Unable to do or say anything more, as sadness, shock, and fury consumed her entire being, she whipped around to face Liam. "You piece of scum," she hissed, her eyes burning with anger. "You. You did this. You _killed_ my sister!" Unable to think straight, she charged straight at her former lover, and put her gun against his head. "You _will_ pay for this," she snarled, and pulled the trigger—

* * *

><p>"Char?" A female voice shakes her out of her thoughts. "Hello?" She gives her a little nudge.<p>

"Wha …?" Char murmurs, brought out of her thoughts. She tilts her head up, as she is seated on the grass, and sees her Aunt Ivy looking down at her, her forehead creased in concern.

"Thinking about your sister, were you?" she asks gently.

Char nods. "Liam too." She sighs. "I sometimes wonder, if maybe I was too rash. Too impulsive. I mean, I killed him right on the spot. And he _was_ my former, well, you know, lover. Aunt Ivy, do you think I should've done what I did?"

Ivy makes a little "hmm" noise and plops down right beside her niece. "Well, Char, that's actually a pretty difficult question to answer," she comments, crossing her legs. "Perhaps twins feel the sibling connection more vividly than between siblings not of the same birth? So maybe her death impacted more on you solely for that reason. But if you ask me, I'd probably just hurt them, just enough to have them beg for mercy, and let them know that they shouldn't have done it, but not kill them." She then adds hastily, "but that's my opinion, though. I don't think you should try that."

Char nods.

"And," Ivy claps a hand on Char's shoulder, "I came to tell you that dinner's ready, but you looked so lost in your thoughts, I figured you couldn't hear me. Come on," she says, standing up. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Aspen Leger surveys the palace from a careful distance. It is in ruins, dried blood still on the walls, and an entire wing is now dust. Evidently, many things—terrible things—happened after he left. Stepping closer, he slowly walks the perimeter of the palace; his home for more than twenty years. He hopes that Mer and Max—and their children, of course—are safe. He wonders about his siblings, nieces, and nephews … are they dead or alive? Safe or in danger? Together or separated? He'll never know until this war ends—and perhaps not even then. A hand briefly touches his shoulder. "Aspen?" Lucy's soft voice asks beside him. "Is everything alright?"<p>

Aspen shakes his head. "Just seeing the palace in ruins, just makes me, well, sad. And I was thinking about my family—my siblings and their children. I was wondering if I could ever reunite with them."

"Oh, Aspen," Lucy says comfortingly, hugging him, "You _will_ see them again."

Her husband sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I won't be so sure about that," he murmurs to his wife, sounding defeated. She looks at him in shock. Aspen Leger _never_ accepted defeat. Perhaps the war has changed him—and her—more than she expected. "Illéa is such a large nation; and most of our vehicles have been destroyed when the Axis Powers first invaded us. So, I really doubt that we can find them …" he trails off, running a hand through his messy, jet-black hair, with strands of silver threading through the black.

"Well, we can still ho—" Lucy starts, but Aspen interrupts his wife.

"Wait," he says sharply, spinning around. "I heard something." He squints as he tries to pinpoint the location of said 'something'. He pauses, and without turning around, indicates for Lucy to stay where she is. He walks silently towards what used to be the West Wing. "Um, hello?" he tentatively calls out to the dark. "Is anyone there?"

A raspy voice from what appears to be a pile of rubble answers him. "My goodness, please, sir, do not bother me. I am at Death's door; what do you want from me?"

Aspen wrinkles his brow. "I don't want anything from you," he says, confused, walking slowly to the pile. "Miss, I simply would like to help you, and free you from your prison of rubble."

"Your voice sure sounds familiar …" is all she murmurs in reply. Aspen finally reaches the heap and upon seeing a small, thin hand sticking out, and gently lifts one of the stone slabs off the woman. The woman opens her eyes as the weight is lifted off her chest. "Oh! Thank you!" she exclaims, and upon seeing Aspen's face, recognizes him. "Gen—" she pauses as she begins coughing. "General Leger! Thank you so much!"

"Mary?" He asks, recognizing her as one of America's maids. "What happened? I mean, obviously, the palace fell, but what led up to that?"

"Stupid Axis Powers bombed the palace. For what reason, I know not," Mary murmurs. "I was outside the palace, tending Her Majesty's garden, when the bombs fell. Everyone inside was killed immediately, I'm afraid. And …" Mary trails off, unsure how to deliver the news. "I-I saw Tori's family get killed. They were crushed by the giant columns in the hall. She's too young to lose her family like that, poor child. Oh, I'm not even so sure how I managed to survive when everyone else died. A stone pillar landed on me!" She coughs again.

"That must be because you have a very strong will, Miss." Aspen smiles. "Come," he offers a hand to help her up, "we'll get you somewhere safe. I'll wager that you haven't had food or water in a few days, am I correct? We have food and water, as well as shelter. It may not be much, but at least it's _something_."

Mary nods. "Alright. I trust you a lot, even before this whole conundrum happened. After all, I answered you when you called because my instincts said that you weren't a threat; _unlike _the men who came here maybe a day or two ago and demanded for those hiding to come out. I heard them but I listened to my intuition and figured that they were bad news. So I stayed silent," Mary says, sounding proud of herself. "The stone slab concealed me, of course. That was the only time I was thankful that I was under that thing."

* * *

><p>The next day, Char awakens to find her mother shaking her shoulder. She sits up front her makeshift bed, confused. "Char," Kamber whispers, putting her mouth beside her daughter's ear. "Terri told me to tell you that you are to seek out an enemy base, and report back. Apparently it's close by. No one knows what you are about to do aside from Terri and I. Go, my daughter. Be brave, Char."<p>

Wordlessly, Char nods, kisses her mother on the cheek, and after pulling on her gear and securing her weapons, disappears from the scene.

She makes sure that her footsteps are silent as she glides through the forest. _Be as silent and deadly as a thieving murderer in the night_, Terri used to tell her. In the far distance, Char sees several tents set up, forming a loose circle, with a fiery pit in the middle of the formation. She creeps closer. _Is this the enemy base?_, she wonders. Hearing voices, Char ducks into a nearby bush, and waits, her back to the base. She sees Commander Mitchell and Peter strut by, their heads held up high and their mouths twisted into a cruel sneer. The former Five feels her blood boil at the sight of them. It is partly _their_ fault for causing this mess. After securing a muffler on her gun, she decides to aim at Commander Mitchell first. _Even if Peter shoots me before I can shoot him, at least the leader will be dead_, she reasons.

She takes aim, and shoots the bullet into the Commander's head, and immediately dives away, rolling around twenty feet away from her original position. Knowing that her bullet couldn't have missed, Char already has her gun pointed at Peter, who already is shooting at where Char was before. Before Char can squeeze the trigger to end Peter's life, another shot is heard, and the front of his chest explodes in red.

_Can this be? Since one of the powerful leaders of the Axis Powers is now dead, can this be the beginning of the end?_, she can't help but wonder.

Char wrinkles her brow, surveying the area to make sure that there aren't any other Axis Powers around before getting out of her hiding spot. Was there another United Powers soldier who was called on the same mission that Char was called for?

Her silent question is answered when a hair of fiery red streaked with a tad bit of grey pops into view. Char draws in a sharp breath, not daring to hope. But when the rest of the woman's face shows, Char smiles despite the grave situation she is in.

She knows that face as well as she knows Kamber's.

She runs toward the Queen of Illéa, tears streaming down her face, disregarding the consequences that will follow. After being separated for two years, finally, finally. They can be reunited. But the thought of her sister not being here, alongside her, finally reuniting with their mother, immediately dampens her joy.

Before Char can take another step forward, the area behind her explodes. She is knocked off her feet, and thrown into the air. Pain courses throughout her body as her world fades to black.

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun dun! What do you think will happen now? Tell me in the reviews! Oh, and by the way, what was the Divergent reference found in this chapter? Hint: It is said somewhere during the conversation(s) between Kamber and her daughter, Char. And I had to change the name, obviously, as Tris andor Four aren't in this fandom, but the reference is still easy to find. Good luck!**

**Reviews:**

**FanFictionatic: New reviewer! Haha, I seriously had to double-check your username to make sure that I got it right :) And aw, that's so sweet of you to say that. Glad to know I fulfilled your wish! Thanks!**

**DystopianAddict: YAS I HAVE READ THE HEIR IS IS INSANE AND WONDERFUL AND HEARTBREAKING ALL ROLLED INTO ONE. Haha, you sure that you would like my help for a story idea? I kinda have the worst ideas sometimes … :P Ooh, that sounds interesting! And that's so nice of you to say that! :) Thanks!**

**RQOTD: Ever gotten a tooth pulled out?**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 37): THE HEIR WAS SO GOOD! GAH!**

**Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 38): Favourite Author. Definitely.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**


	40. Chapter 40

**AAAHHHHHH last chapter of this story! I edited and re-edited this soooo many times … I actually finished the rough draft on Monday, and I was so excited because of this that I was really hyper and excited for the next few days … my friends thought that I was insane. Well, maybe I am :)**

**Happy reading! **

* * *

><p>•Epilogue•<p>

- 20 years later -

A blonde-haired woman sits by the window, a hand propping up her chin, her icy blue eyes not focused on the neighbours' children playing outside, but rather on the past. _Today is the day_, she thinks to herself. A day of victory, yet a day of mourning. For the past twenty years, she'd dreaded this date. This year, it is no different. The door behind her opens, its hinges silent. A woman in her early sixties walks in, a boy and girl in tow. "You ready to go?" the woman—presumably the children's grandmother—asks the one sitting by the window.

"Wha—?" she asks, clearly having not noticed the trio before the grandmother spoke. She wheels herself around and faces her mother and the children.

The grandmother smiles a little. "I said, 'You ready to go?'" she asks again.

"No," the woman shakes her head, resting a hand on the wheel of her chair. "I'm not ready; the pain is still there; especially today, when it hits me harder than most days. On other days, it's just a lingering wound, but now, it's like the wound has been ripped open again and salt poured into them … the only difference being that the pain won't ever ebb away. But I still should go … no matter how it wounds me, and digs a knife into me. I have, after all, gone for the past twenty years. I have to visit them. But," she adds as an afterthought, "I'm _not_ going to visit _his_ grave …"

The grandmother looks at her. "You sure about that?" she asks softly.

The woman nods firmly, picking up a nearby paper bag filled to the brim with objects. "Yes, Mom, I'm sure." she says, setting the bag on her lap.

Her mother sighs. "I'm just waiting for Maxon and Kurt," she tells her daughter, "and then I'm leaving the children at Aspen's. Spencer and Shalom are already there." She pauses, and adds, "But I think we should take the children this year; they're already ten years old, and they ought to understand what happened twenty years ago … to us. They have been curious for _years_ as to why every year on this day, you are silent and full of grief … they deserve to know."

"I'm not the only one," she counters. "You guys hide it well, Mom, but I can see it in yours and Dad's eyes. My siblings, too." To the children, she asks, "You sure that you're old enough?"

The children nod simultaneously. How they are so alike yet so different … how close they are to each other … it brings a pang to the woman's heart. For these ten-year-old twins, her niece and nephew, remind her so much of herself and her twin sister …

"Cass," she whispers involuntarily, and shocks her mother as well as herself. She hasn't uttered that name since the day Cassandra died. Thought about it, yes, but never spoken. Until now.

"Charmaine," her mother says quietly, stepping closer to her. "It's alright." Remembering that her grandchildren are still present in the room, she turns around, and in the same quiet voice, she says, "Eadlyn, Ahren, go find Uncle Kurt and make sure he's ready to go, okay?" The twins nod and run off, the girl—Eadlyn, in a thoughtful gesture, closes the door behind them to give them privacy.

Turning back to her grief-stricken daughter, she says, "Char. It's alright. She isn't in any pain anymore. Remember that." Grasping Char's shoulders, she adds, "And don't dwell on her death, Char. As I said to you for who-knows-how-long in the past twenty years, think of all the good times, the times you got to spend with each other. Running her death over and over in your mind won't bring her back to life. Neither will thinking about the good times, but you should remember her for her life, not her death."

Char barely manages to dip her head in acknowledgement to her mother's words. "Let's go," she says, her voice barely audible, and starts to wheel herself out of the room, her mother silently following her.

* * *

><p>They meet Kurt and the twins outside the massive house in Angeles. Char asks her brother, "Kurt, can you lead the way while Mom and I talk to the children about what happened to us? You know …" She trails off. The words "the deaths and the bombings" die on her lips. "That." is all she simply says, the warm wind ruffling her hair.<p>

Kurt nods, understanding, despite having his sister falter in the middle of a sentence. "Sure."

As they walk to the massive, four-by-six-mile graveyard, made specifically for the victims of the World War V, America and Char recount their story to Eadlyn and Ahren Schreave, for the first time in twenty years.

* * *

><p>"… And so Maxon and I went to what we think is Sumner, and I decided to scout around a bit," America says. "I saw these two Axis Powers soldiers walking around, but I wasn't sure if I should shoot at them or not. Really, though, there could've been other Axis soldiers around, and they could be alerted by the shot! So, I was debating whether or not to shoot."<p>

"I decided for her, actually. I shot one of them, so she killed the other." Char jumps in.

After America explains how the explosion behind Char paralyzed her from the waist down, and how Southern Rebels, at that moment, had stormed the Camp where Char, her brothers, her mother and aunt, and some of the other United Powers were staying. Spencer and Shalom were thankfully wandering around, so they did not get caught up in the crossfire. Unfortunately, her mother, Aunt Ivy, Terri, and many other United Powers had gotten massacred. Very few of them had actually made it out alive, and those who _did_ … they all sustain life-long injuries. Their wounds were not in vain, however, as the Axis Powers which attacked the area all had been killed.

"You remember the bomb which paralyzed me?" Char asks her niece and nephew. Without waiting for a reply, she informs them, "Well, turns out that was Oceania's doing. They knew that that base was one of the biggest in Illéa, and killing them would be vital for us to win the war. They were right. As well, France, at the same time, dropped a _nuclear_ bomb on Angeles—near the palace—and seven other major cities across Illéa. The causalities for those deaths were so high … so, so high …" Char takes in a deep breath. "I don't think there is a single person still alive, in Illéa, who hasn't lost more than three family members in the war. The loss was devastat—"

"Char," America quietly interrupts her daughter, "We're here." The mood instantly turns more sombre than it was a minute ago.

They enter through the wide iron gates of the cemetery, and walk past row after row after row of gravestones. Finally, they stop underneath a large tree, its leaves rustling in the wind. America says, "Here is the final resting place of our family and friends." Pausing, she adds, "We'll meet back here, in, say, an hour and a half, alright?"

Char slowly wheels herself by the stones, occasionally stopping to place flowers, or a card, for the people she knows on the stone. She reads the name of each one. _Ivy Leger, Chase Michael Carrington, Sheridan Melissa Carrington, Jacob Owen Carrington, Mary, Victoria Murray Schreave, Adrian Gideon Schreave … _they all had perished in the hands of the Axis Powers, including Mary. She had inhaled so much dust prior to her rescue that she passed away from dust inhalation a few months after the war had ended. Then Char sees it.

_Celeste Gonzalez (2127 – c. 2145)._

Celeste. It's her fault that Celeste had gotten killed. They probably had captured her when World War V had started, solely because Celeste was her best friend, and wold use her to blackmail Char into helping the Axis Powers do their dirty tasks such as planting bombs and whatnot. Their plan backfired when she ran off and hid in the forest. Seeing that Celeste wasn't of any use anymore, they either killed or tortured her to death, making her slowly bleed out before her light blinked out forever, and the sparkle in her chestnut eyes faded from existence.

She averts her eyes to the next one. _Kamber Leger Carrington (2107 – 2145)._ "Mom," she says, tears in her eyes. "I hope you're proud of me, Mom. I'm still continuing to be brave. I still hold your last words to me close to my heart. I-I love you … just because you're not my real mom doesn't mean that I love you any less. I hope that you're proud to call me your little girl, even though," she laughs a shaky laugh, "I'm not exactly little anymore. I wish you were here, Mom. America can't replace you, even though she's also my mom."

Then the next one. _Cassandra Marie Schreave (2127 – c. 2144)_. "I'm sorry, Cass," she murmurs, bending down so the top of her head touches the top the headstone. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I don't know how you could accept your fate so calmly … it was like you were expecting it to happen. Oh, Cass … I wish, for the thousandth, millionth, time, that you're here." She sniffs. "That you're alive."

"Me too," a new voice echoes sombrely. "Me too."

"Hi, Zach," Char mumbles without turning around. "Guess you found me again."

"I kind of guessed where you went. This is where I found you every year after you wheeled yourself away without anyone noticing," he says.

Zachary kneels down beside Char. "Dearest Cass," he begins, "I miss you. Greatly. That's all I have to say. Words cannot fathom how much I miss you, but I do. Sometimes, I dream that you had survived the gunshot. The storyline of the dream changes every single time, of course, but in every dream, we are together, and as in love as the day I proposed to you, or when we were on one of our dates. I just … long to see your smile again, your bright eyes, your grace, your beauty. Not in memories, but in the flesh. In the past years, I know that I wrote a corny poem to you, but this year … I don't have one. All I have is myself. The same Zachary you fell in love with years ago." He pauses for a little moment, thinking. "Maybe not the same. I've changed," he says quietly. "We all have. But I'm still in here." He smiles a little, tapping his chest. "I'd hug your headstone, but if people saw me doing this, they'd probably think that I'm a crazy lunatic. So I guess I'll just settle for this." Flattening his fingers, he kisses them, and blows his kisses to her stone. "Good-bye, my dearest," he says.

He turns around to see Char smiling a little. "Come on, Char," he tells his would-be sister. "I'll wheel you back to the others."

Shaking her head, Char says, "Thanks, Zachary, but no thanks. I'd like to visit someone else."

* * *

><p>A dark-haired woman leans against a tree. "So," she says softly, looking down at her feet, "I guess this year, you finally got my letter."<p>

"Yes, I did," Char answers rather brusquely, looking up at her. "I got them every year, actually. I read it, each year, but I ignored it. But this year, it sounded pretty urgent. In the other letters, it didn't sound that urgent, so I decided to go this time. I figured that you can't really do any harm now, anyways."

"You're right. I can't. They're still keeping a close eye on me, after all these years." The woman sighs, crouching down. "You know," she looks Char in the eye, "I sometimes wonder if I should've done what I did. I really didn't have a choice, you know. They had my family captive, and Commander Mitchell told me that they'd suffer if I didn't do what they told me to do. Char … those guys … they're pure evil. I'm ashamed to admit, that for a period of time … I actually _felt_ ruthless unforgiving, and bloodthirsty." She shudders. "When I saw you almost get executed … that was when I woke up."

Char nods, understanding. "It's good that you realized how monstrous they were before it was too late. Better late than never. So," she tries to change the topic, "what's the emergency?" she asks rather abruptly.

The woman jerks her head up. "What?" she asks, startled.

"Therese, your letter. It sounded like there was an emergency."

"There's no emergency. I sent you a letter, once a year, for the past nineteen years. You never replied, so I decided to make this one sound important, in hopes that you read my letters but chose to ignore them," Therese explains. "The only reason why I wanted to meet you out here is because I wanted to apologize to you privately."

"I'm sorry, Therese, but please make this quick. I have to rejoin my family soon and I still need to visit one more person." The lie rolls off her tongue so easily, Char herself almost believes it. Truth is, she doesn't have another grave to visit. She just feels … uneasy … around Therese; hence the reason why she never agreed to meet her for the past nineteen years.

"Alright." Therese replies. After a moment, she bursts out, "I'm sorry, Char. I know I shouldn't have done what I did. I know what I did can't change anything, can't take away your pain, but ... Charmaine, can you please forgive me? I know that I've hurt you ... greatly, but please … forgive me. I know we can't go back to the innocent relationship we had as schoolmates, but can we start over?" Her voice contains a hopeful tone as she looks Char in the eye.

Char is quiet for a moment, looking towards the distance. "I forgive you," she finally says after a long pause. "In a weird way, I kind of understand why you did what you did. In all honesty, I think I'd do the same thing I were you, so I could protect my family from harm."

Therese's face floods with relief. She rushes forward, wrapping the wheelchair-bound woman in an embrace. "Thank you," she says into Char's shoulder.

* * *

><p><em>Forgive Liam<em>. One of Cass' last words of advice. She has harboured enough anger and fury for him … twenty years is more than enough. She realizes that hearing Therese's words opened up something in her.

After her meeting with Therese, Char found herself wheeling to his grave. She knows where it is; she, in fact, witnessed his burial after World War Five. She just never visited there afterwards … until today.

"Liam." Char says, looking at the stone. "I think it's been long enough … far too long, maybe. I've held enough anger … I know I should let it go. I might not be able to forgive you completely for what you've done, but my anger is gone now. I know that it isn't entirely your fault. I don't harbour any resentment against you anymore. That's a good start, don't you think?"

With that, she turns her chair around to leave. As she wheels herself away, she whispers into the wind, "I did it, Cass. I hope you're proud."

* * *

><p>"Auntie Char," Eadlyn starts as they walk back home. "Grandma says that she said something that changed Illéa forever; but she won't tell me what. Auntie, will you please tell me? Please?"<p>

"Please?" Ahren chimes in.

Char casts a discreet glance at her mother, who gives her a wide grin in return that clearly says, _Go ahead_. Smiling, Char replies, "Alright, I'll tell you."

She blows her hair out of her face, and realizes that the twins are looking at her expectantly. "After your grandmother pulled me out when I got knocked out and buried by the explosion that ended the war, she made a promise to herself and the country—she made sure that I was listening." Char says. "She said, and I still remember every word of it, 'This is the end, but also the beginning. The end of the Illéa founded by Gregory Illéa, but the beginning of a new country, a new Illéa; one where everyone is equal, it is a democratic country, and where people are not controlled by Castes. Everyone will be free, and labels will not restrict them. I hereby swear to it. The end of this war marks the beginning of a new nation, and I _will_ make sure no Castes remain.'"

And this time, she kept her promise.

* * *

><p><strong>Aaaand, that's a wrap! Thank you everyone for reading! This is not over, I assure you. No sequel, but I <em>will<em> be posting one or two one-shots of this story on my one-shot collection, _A Journey Called Life_. ****And yes, I put Eadlyn and Ahren into this story! I seriously just couldn't resist :) ACK THE HEIR IS SO GOOD!**

**Reviews: **

**Sera (guest): New reviewer! Awh, I know … Cassie's death was sad. Sawwy, I didn't mean to make you cry. Here. *Awkward pat pat/hug* You'll be fine :) Thanks!**

**RQOTD (Chapter 39): Yep. Molar. It was brutal. :/**

**I have one more chapter for you guys … not telling what it is. It's a surprise! Soooo ... stay tuned!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Kiren**


	41. The Untold Stories and a Message

**Here's the little surprise! Enjoy :)**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>•The Untold Stories•<p>

_What happened to Aspen, Mary, and Lucy after chapter 39? Was Daphne actually killed? How did Adrian and Toria get killed? Here, in this collection of untold stories, their fate will be revealed to you …_

* * *

><p>It's sweltering hot. Aspen sits down on a nearby log, and brushes his matted and tangled black hair from his eyes. He takes a drink of water from the bottle, but it doesn't help quench his thirst. Neither does the shade in the woods help cool him down. "Aspen!" Lucy calls. "Mary's prepared some food!"<p>

"Coming!" he yells back, his voice a little hoarse.

He runs back to where he left his wife and her friend, and after giving Lucy a hug and a peck on the cheek, he sits down to eat his meal, devouring the small amount of squirrel, fowl, and leaves in front of him ravenously. "I think we should continue to move," Aspen says after swallowing a particularly large chunk of squirrel. "We've been here for quite a while and I would like to always be ahead of the Axis."

Mary nods. "Aspen," she starts, and then breaks into a fit of coughing, hunching over. Lucy bites her lip, and gently pats her friend's back. Mary had just joined up with the duo not too long ago after her rescue, and frequently had these "bad spells", as Lucy put it, "caused her to hack and cough simply _nothing_ out". Recovering, Mary asks, "Where do you think we are right now?"

"Hmm … goodness, it's kind of hard to tell. But I'm guessing, perhaps near Columbia or Whites. I really don't know, though," Aspen quickly adds. "Wherever we are, though, we need to keep moving." He quickly clears his meal and dumps a bit of water on his hands, to clean them a little.

Finally, they set off after making sure there is no evidence of them being there. Suddenly, light flares up from behind them, and Mary lets out a little gasp. "Turn around," she barely manages to make out. They oblige, and to their horror and delight, a wall of orange stands three miles behind them.

The light finally winks out, leaving the three Illéans flabbergasted and open-mouthed. Aspen recovers first, saying, "We must help them! There may be survivors!" He runs into the direction of the explosion, the women following close on his heels.

* * *

><p>"Is … is Daphne dead?" America asks her husband a few minutes later, after freeing him from his bonds.<p>

Maxon tilts his head, gazing at his wife who currently is lying on the forest floor. "I certainly hope so," he replies. "I'll go check."

She nods. "Be careful," she warns.

He walks over to the still figure of Daphne, hoping that she's dead—or, at least, unconscious. _It'd be pretty creepy if her eyes fly open but she remains dead_, he thinks, and shudders. _Great, now I have a pretty disturbing image in my head, and I'm going to check on the person who is prominently featured in this horrific image_. He shudders again.

Cautiously approaching the Queen of France, he lingers a few steps away from her body, not wanting to get so close. When she stays perfectly still, he steels up his courage and walks over to her. Her lips still a pale pink and her face peaceful, it is easy to perceive Daphne as an innocent woman who is sleeping. Yet Maxon knows that she is different than what her appearance says of her. Gently taking her delicate hand into his large, rough and calloused hand, he carefully places two fingers on her wrist, searching for a pulse.

Nothing.

She's dead.

Maxon doesn't know how to react. Should he be mourning or celebrating? His feelings about her are so mixed he doesn't know how what to do. Should he mourn for her, because she was his childhood close friend, or celebrate, for an evil maniac leader of the Axis Powers is dead, and on top of that, she tried to kill his wife?

With a heavy heart, he slowly walks back to where America lies on the ground. "Well…?" America asks him expectantly.

"Dead." He replies, his voice flat.

"Oh, Maxon," she says, sitting up and taking his hand in hers. "I'm sorry. She _was_ your childhood friend, after all. Let's remember her for what she was to you in the past, the good memories, and forgive her for what she tried to do to me. She was simply blinded because she still adores you …" she trails off.

Maxon looks away, suddenly seeming very interested in a patch of grass over on his left.

"We should still put her to rest. Properly." America's firm voice says. "Maxon? You listening?" Maxon nods. "She still deserves to be laid to rest … she's human after all." America declares. Pulling herself into a standing position, she walks over to Daphne, rubbing her wrists where the rope chafed her skin. Kneeling beside the still woman, she gently pulls the knife out of the woman's stomach, the blade dried with blood. Leaning over her, America gently brushes Daphne's dirty blonde hair away from her face. "Rest in peace, Queen Daphne," America says, still looming over the dead woman.

Her eyes suddenly fly open and her hand flies out to catch America's wrist, holding it in a tight grip. "Maxon never was supposed to be yours," she snarls, but just as suddenly she grabs America's wrist, her hand falls limp.

America looks at Daphne, shocked.

"Okay, what the bloody hell was _that_?!" Maxon bursts out, appearing by her side, a strong hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know," she replies. "One second I was leaning over her and the next she had my hand in a vise-like grip. Then she fell slack again." She shrugs. "I think she's actually gone now. This time." She reaches a gentle hand out and closes the Queen of France's eyes and clasps her delicate hands together, laying them on her stomach, covering the wound that ended her life. America gently spreads her hair out, fanning it across the ground around her. "Rest in peace, Daphne." She says, her head bowed.

"Good-bye, Daphne," Maxon says. "Good-bye."

* * *

><p>They sit in adjacent cells, divided only by bars. "I'm scared, Adri," Toria says, her voice shaking and her hands trembling as they clutch her husband's through the bars of the cell. "What are they going to do to us?"<p>

"I don't know, Tor," he says, his voice hoarse due to the lack of water. He lets go of his grip on Toria on his right hand and reaches out to console her. "I don't know. But whatever happens, we have to be strong."

Tori nods, tightening her hold on her husband's hands. Who knows how much longer they have to do that, to touch the other, to hear the other's voice?

They don't need to wait much sooner to find out. Judging by the rotations of the soldiers guarding them, it is around six hours later when they are led out of the cell. Adrian and Victoria Schreave never break eye contact, even when they are forced out into the open, the shining sun high over their heads. "Be strong," Adrian Schreave had said.

Nor do they break eye contact when their heads are forced upon wooden blocks and locked in place. When the Axis Powers ensure that their axes are sharp enough, they only smile at each other and mouth the words "I love you" to the other, and reach out for their love's hand.

When the axe comes down on each of their heads simultaneously, Tori and Adrian Schreave do not feel fear, for their love for each other is stronger than death, and words have more power than anyone could imagine. Their wedding vows were true: _I will love you to the end, and maybe even after that. Death won't break us apart, because love conquers all_.

They lived their short life together. It only made sense that they died together, smiling and holding hands, to give the other strength when they needed it, and they died knowing that their love will continue even after their death.

* * *

><p><strong>Woah. I seriously was <strong>**_not_**** expecting that kind of an ending for the last mini story, and heck, I'm the freakin' author!**

**Okay, so yea! That's the surprise. Kinda morbid, I know … but it's still a surprise nevertheless!**

**Oh, I almost forgot! Here's a bunch of random things that I was going to write for "The Beginning of the End" but it didn't make the cut:**

1. I originally was going to just have the story stop at around 16 chapters and have the ending as Char getting accepted into the Royal family and stuff like that, but I figured that it'd be too boring so I changed it.

2. Having Liam kill Cass by accident was _not_ a part of the original plan. My fingers insisted on typing that, so yea. I kept it. Cass supposed to die differently, but I liked how the scene went so I stuck to that one.

3. I was originally going to kill Aspen, but changed my mind later in the story.

4. Daphne wasn't actually a part of the original plan … she just kinda popped in.

5. There were a _lot_ more deaths than I anticipated.

And last of all … (this one's kinda shocking):

6. In the ending, I planned to pull a Veronica Roth and kill off the main character. _Yes, the original storyline was that I would kill _Char. However, I didn't, because, my friend and fellow writer AcademicGirl talked me out of it. So, yea, it's thanks to her that I didn't kill Char! GO give her a virtual hug for saving Char's life!

* * *

><p><strong>Here's my HUGE THANK YOU NOTE:<strong>

**First of all, thank you ****_so_**** much for the 33 FOLLOWERS AND 22 FAVOURITES! I know that that may not seem like a lot to writers who have super awesome storylines and stuff, but for me, I feel that this is a really, really, REALLY big accomplishment! Heck, this is my first ****_completed_**** chaptered story! When I started this story, I had hoped that I'd get a good number of favourites and follows, I never, not in a million years, thought that I would get 22 FAVOURITES AND 33 FOLLOWS! On top of that, 202 REVIEWS?! LIKE WHAAAAAAAT?!**

**I seriously thank you awesome people for sticking with me until the end! Whether you were with me from the beginning or not, I sincerely thank you all, every one of you, for taking the time to read my story.**

**Without you guys, I would have given up a long time ago, and never would have finished this fanfiction. Your support means so much to me, knowing that somewhere out there, there are eager people reading my story … you guys are really awesome. Really. I am seriously ****_so_**** thankful for you guys! Because of your support, I have learned a lot of things about writing that I never would have learned, because, now, I have experience of writing a story. A fanfiction, but a story nonetheless.**

**AHHHH this story is now complete! I bet that it'll feel ****_really_**** good when I push that little "complete" button … :)**

**Now, looking back at my first chapter, I see many things that needed fixing, things that needed a tweak or two, and things that need to be changed completely. I never would have known that if I never had your support. I've been saying this a million times already throughout this thank-you message, but heck, I'll say it once again: I'm immensely thankful for you guys' support.**

**I'll be writing more Selection fanfictions in the future, as well as Percy Jackson, Mortal Instruments, Lorien Legacies, Divergent, and more! I think a Percy Jackson story is next on my list, although it would have to be out sometime in July (UGH STUPID FINALS). Follow or favourite me if you'd like to read them once they come out!**

**I figured that I'd end with a little quote. So, here it is:**

"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving." – Albert Einstein

**Again, thanks for reading, and stay awesome,**

**~Kiren, aka Someone the World Forgot**

**P.S. Just for old times' sake, mind if you leave one last review? That'd be awesome :)**


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